Resolve
by skelton-elliot
Summary: After wiping all memory of him from her mind, Loki decides to take care of Darcy on earth, after vowing that, no matter what, he will win back her love. A humorous, drama-filled relationship begins. Being the sequel to "Reticence" Rated M for good measure
1. Chapter 1

**Skel: **_**Hey guys! Thanks for your touching reviews, bless you all for saying that :) This one's considerably fuzzier than the last – I think the intense emotion of Reticence makes this stuff far more entertaining.**_

_**But don't worry, I have some serious stuff planned too *wink.**_

_**Without further ado, this is 'Resolve,' being the sequel to 'Reticence.'**_

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

"Loki… You know full well that I have already pardoned you, and your thoroughness surprises and elates me… however I do believe you've earned my forgiveness a thousand times over. Why now do you try and seek it again, and by such troubling means?"

"That is not the only reason, Father. You know that. Besides, it is a punishment I have chosen personally – and what better atonement is there than one you have agreed upon? One you are happy to do by way of penance?"

"But… my son, it is madness! Whatever shall you do there? And your mother, abandoned already by her eldest son, to now be thrown into loneliness once again, it is a troubling thing for her, even though she is so strong-willed."

Loki chuckled softly: "Yes, but do you forget her youngest?" he added sarcastically: "I am certain that in his youth – and legitimacy - he will be able to provide her with all the love and joy Thor and I once endeavoured to do." He looked at his father seriously: "We are old now, father. Ready to begin lives."

The old king nodded absently, rare lines of worry creasing his brow. "If… you are certain … " Loki blanched as he thought he saw a small tear in the corner of Odin's eye – he was not ready for shows of emotion.

Loki gave a short sharp nod. "I take my leave of you father – you know as well as I do the art of stealth is not lost on me. I must make use of it wisely, before the dawn wakes my poor mother and friends."

Suddenly Odin embraced his son, his strong yet old arms encasing him. Loki realised he was slightly taller than his father –_that's a pleasant surprise_, he thought.

After a moment of shock, Loki placed his hands gently on his father's back, trying not to allow the bubble of emotion in his throat to burst. Yes, this was a far better idea than doing this over and over with all of his other loved ones on Asgard. Not that there were many, but still.

Breaking apart, he patted his father's shoulder awkwardly. "I thank you for your mercy, my Father, I know it is undeserved."

Odin shook his head, "you are my _son. _I will always treat you as such, no matter the circumstances."

Loki revelled in his words, heady with his father's approval. Letting his hand pass beside his face in a soft wave, he magicked himself to her room. With a deft flutter of his fingers, she lifted from the bed to float into his arms. Even in a coma, she was beautiful. Upon studying Midguardian Culture, he'd found many apt phrases to described things he'd never been able to word properly before. In this instance, one came to him: "_distance makes the heart grow fonder_."

Over the months as she'd slept on, after the initial bouts of worry and doubt, Loki had settled into a quiet peace with his beloved. As the length of her slumber grew, so too did his attendance to her, and his eagerness for her to awaken. It was as if her eyelashes had grown, her hair become fuller and softer to the touch, her skin more marble and porcelain and tender all at the same time. And her full lips seemed to be always planted in a pose of glorious peace – a _Mona Lisa _smile, as he'd learned to call it, which grew upon his heart like a wanted cancer.

He'd become introverted beyond cure, and chose instead to read to her. At first reading ancient tomes which he (and probably she) eventually grew bored of, he then moved onto more appropriate literature. He'd managed to procure some Midguardian poetry – initially tedious stuff that he'd ignored in prior years. But as he studied the art of her face and touched her delicate skin, the flawed, human poetry of Keats or Shakespeare began to reflect a murmur of the soul he'd once thought eternally dormant.

Holding her like a feather in his strong, lean arms, he then vanished to reappear on the Bifrost, his father standing on the edge with the cool night air whipping his cape about his legs. He turned to his son and smiled.

"Have a safe journey, my son."

"I will," the words caught in his throat.

Loki began to walk slowly towards Heimdall. The tension between them was still there, but as Heimdall was always watching, he also knew full well the transformation Loki's soul had undergone over the past months.

With a curt nod he strode into the chamber, clinging tighter to Darcy in his arms.

"Wait!" Odin called after him.

Loki turned to see the doors of the chamber framing his Father, a small silhouette against the growing light of dawn. He was staring after his son with a curious look on his aged features that turned Loki's heart to liquid.

"I love you Loki," he said simply.

He thought he might as well be a boy again.

Gaining control of his quivering lips, he breathed: "And you, Father."

Then the sword sunk into the floor and Loki felt a familiar pull which threw him into the cosmos.

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><p>Darcy's eye-lids flickered, as the soft light coming in through the drawn curtain woke her. She felt considerably exhausted and drowsy, like she had the world's worst hangover … and her body was unbearably slow at catching up with her mind. Holding her head in her hands, she slowly sat up, her eyes screwed tightly shut. What had she been doing the night before?<p>

With a jolt she realised she didn't know what she'd been doing the night before. Or even the week before… what the hell?

It must have been the hangover of all hangovers – maybe she'd found some Asgardian Liquor in her dorm stashed away secretly and decided to be irresponsible… or maybe she'd decided to go to one of the raging Uni parties she'd always avoided like death.

Rubbing her eyes mechanically, she cracked them open, then stifled a scream.

Her room was … gone. That was the only word for it. She was in a totally foreign place, observing totally foreign objects and shaking about in totally foreign sheets. Had she done the deed and slept with a random guy and ended up at his place the bitter morning after? She reached for her nether regions, hoping she was seriously incorrect. She let out a loud sigh of relief when she found everything in order. However her back _ached_ like a _bitch._

She rubbed her eyes again, trying not to look too closely at the pictures on the walls or the books stashed around the place. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible and get the hell back home without reliving any strange memories.

As she moved to stand, she felt something tugging at her memory, and furrowed her brow as she felt some strange déjà vu pervade her thoughts.

"I really need to find out what happened last night," she thought worriedly. This was turning into some strange rendition of _The Hangover._

Gingerly she placed her feet on the wooden floor, trying to calm her shaky nerves. Maybe studying her surroundings _was _a good idea. A huge _Dali _painting hung on the wall, and her eyes widened. Okay, so maybe not some random guy…

Stepping across the floor, she felt hollow, like she'd been sleeping for months with no food or physical exertion for far too long. Despite the delicious smell of French Toast emanating from what she assumed must be the kitchen, everything else _smelt _different. Her senses were kicking into gear with surprising force, and everything told her she was in the wrong place.

She realised with a jolt that she wasn't alone. Reaching for the closest weapon-like object she could find – a small umbrella on the floor – then thinking better of it and putting it back gently – _how horrible to beat up some random with his own umbrella_ - she strafed the door and put her back against the wall, peeking through the crack the open door made.

The rest of the apartment continued on, a small lounge room with sparse furniture but mountains and _mountains _of books, faced her. There were more books than in the bedroom, which she'd thought was a library or study of some kind. She wondered happily if she'd finally managed to vodka-bang some Uni nerd – the ones with tailored waistcoats and slick hair and intelligent eyes which she found so attractive. And, judging by the _Devil Wears Prada_ furniture, he was probably rich to boot. Score.

She huffed despite her situation – she always managed to miss those guys completely and end up playing reluctant tonsil-hockey and panty-drop with some burly airhead who she'd _always _regret the next morning. Maybe this would be a regret-_less _one?

"H—hello?" she said softly at the door. The smell was intoxicating – a scent she remembered from her early childhood years before her Dad had sprinted. She could hear the sounds of frying and… footsteps?

Slipping through the door trying not to make a sound, she padded softly across the floorboards into the living room. She gasped internally at how _quaint _the room actually was. A small alcove on the west side, facing a beautiful vision of a city – though which one she was reluctant to find out - yet the room was not imposed upon by the deafening roar of trucks and cars she'd been so used to in New Mexico. A small ornate table which looked like it belonged in a Paris alley-way was nestled there, overlooking the view. Books lined all the walls, making the room look like it was wallpapered with them. And the _books_! She found a whole section devoted to Keats, and another to Historiography, and another on Political Science which she never thought she'd see outside of the Uni Library.

Half deathly-afraid, half hoping, she wondered if the owner was some professor. Instantly a grisly, Einstein image flooded her mind and she gagged emptily.

"Well… it wouldn't be the worst thing you've done…" she whispered under her hand.

A soft _clink _echoed around the corridor and she assumed the kitchen was that-a-way. She spun around to see a window cut into the wall, with a tiny little kitchenette framed within it. Holding her breath she watched on as a figure moved into view, his back facing her.

She bit her lip. He looked decidedly _yummy _from this angle. Dishevelled black hair down to his slight shoulders, off-black business shirt, tucked into a leather belt and black pants. His figure was lithe and she could tell from the forearms which peered out from under his folded sleeves that he was muscular despite his wiry frame. He turned infinitesimally to check a recipe, and she glimpsed his profile: long, aquiline nose, pale almost translucent white skin, and flawless eyes which sent her reeling.

_Scoooooooooore._

_Oh my fucking God, oh my fucking God_, she couldn't control her arms. They patted at her clothes, stroked her hair, tweaked her nose, rubbed her eyes – this was the best morning-after of her life. It was such a shame she couldn't remember any of the events before which led to _this _Mr. Darcy being in her life.

_Oh God, please let this be real, please don't let this be some kick-ass dream I'm going to wake up from, _she thought. She debated whether she should go and speak to him, but was afraid he'd evaporate.

Against her better judgement she couldn't resist – with an ass and face like that his voice must be _luscious. _She had to hear it.

Her socks sent no noise across the floor as she tip-toed up to the window. She was completely unsure how to approach him – she couldn't remember _a thing _except that ridiculously boring lecture she'd died in. Something about him told her she should recognise him, but her mind was mush.

Touching the sill of the window-wall tentatively, she cleared her throat. The crackling of the butter in the pan increased, and she cleared it louder.

He spun around.

_._

"Darcy…" the God breathed. _He said my name!_

"Uh…" Darcy squeaked lamely. Her knees were suddenly jelly, her eyes unfocused. _Come on Darc, get yourself together_! _Play it cool…_

He seemed to be staring in total shock, his eyes wide green saucers which watched her face like a cat at night. They weren't cold, but she could see some tendency in there for arrogance. Whatever, she didn't care so long as he _knew her name and said it like that._

"Darcy," he said again, moving out of the kitchen and into the living room. He was _tall. _Ridiculously tall. His head brushed the doorframe as he entered, and he had to duck swiftly to avoid getting knocked out. Her heart stuttered a little as he came closer, his hands held out in front of him.

Wait, what? He was holding his hands out like he were trying to catch a wild animal. His eyes were wary, his footsteps obvious and calculated. _Uh, it's okay bro, I'm not gonna bite._

_Hmm… or am I? Maybe I already have… _Darcy bit her lip as a hot flush came over her cheeks. She couldn't help instantly imagining all the awesome things she wanted to do to him between the sheets. All the different places she wished she could see – his chest, his biceps, the base of his neck, and other things which she tried not to think about. _Too late, _and she heated up into a fire-engine red as her eyes flicked to his crotch, then back to his face.

_Oh God I hope he didn't notice that. _He seemed to be intent on not scaring her or something – he was stepping closer now… yay.

"A—are you…" he didn't finish, choosing instead to cover his mouth with long, pianist fingers. A strange emotion passed through his Jade eyes, flickering between joy, remorse and fear.

"Uh… "she said again, her voice softer, "are _you_… you know… all there?" she gestured to his head. Something about his serious demeanour told her jokes were lost on him. To prove it, his brows creased with concern and confusion, then after an awkward moment, he smiled beneath his hands in awe.

"Darcy…" and he suddenly moved to embrace her. She could feel herself melt into the contours of his chest as he towered above her – his hands moving up and down her back in the most comforting gesture she'd ever felt.

"Y—yes okay…" she said awkwardly, "I get it. You know my name." How strange this guy was. She hoped he wasn't some creep, because being around him was her new favourite thing to do apart from playing sims and listening to Radiohead.

He chuckled warmly and she could hear the sound resonating through his ribcage by her ear. It was the most pleasant sound she'd ever heard.

"Oh Darcy, I am so happy you are well," he crooned into her hair. She could feel a sensation above her, like something was about to touch her. Was he stroking her head? She whimpered internally.

"Uh yeah… totally fine," her hands were still clinging to his glorious-smelling shirt. It was that typical cologne-smell mixed with something else heavenly that tickled her nose as she inhaled deeply. Was it really hot here or something? It was like a fucking sauna.

After what felt like an age, he broke away from her and looked into her face. Was that a _tear_? She felt considerably awkward now. This dude was the strangest.

He stroked her face and she leant into it automatically. His touch was so gentle, like he were trying not to break her. She sighed, hoping she didn't look too much like a swoon-addict.

Her mind reeled: "Um… so …. What the hell?" she laughed nervously, his fingers still on her cheek.

He suddenly stiffened, retracting his hand – _no! come back! - _ and staring at her in shock, like he'd done something wrong. "Oh Darcy!" he cried out, "I completely forgot." To her dismay he stepped back and regarded her with a completely different air – that same arrogance she'd seen in him before seemed to grow all of a sudden. He looked down his nose at her.

"I trust you slept well?" he said, clearing his throat. Yep, this dude was definitely off the scales with strangeness. She felt a nervous anxiety in her stomach as she seemed compelled to like that arrogance about him, despite the dangerous aura he gave off in waves.

"Y—yes," she breathed, "but… um… what happened?" She watched him, trying to read his expressions. He'd turned into something very cold and distant all of a sudden.

"You've been asleep for a while…" he said absently, looking at the books on the floor by his feet. "Quite a while, actually."

She narrowed her eyes, "how long is _a while_?"

He seemed cornered. She thought she heard him mutter something inaudible which had the words: "…planned this… totally off guard… tell her?" in it. Her eyes narrowed even more.

After a while, she asked again "How. Long. Is. A _while_?"

He sighed, still not looking at her. "T—three months."

She felt a sudden urge to hurl her guts out.

"Oh," was all she whispered as she slowly sat down on the immaculate white couch. Her body felt completely still with shock but her world was spinning.

"Three _months_?" she breathed, bringing her hands to her mouth and feeling strange tears prick at her eyes. "Three fucking months."

"Yes," he was still staring at the books. _I'm over here dipshit, the one having a mental breakdown on your fucking sofa_!

"And… I've been here… at Netherfield Park… all that time?" so she was still making jokes – that was good, at least she wasn't catatonic.

"W—what?" he was very puzzled. _He mustn't be the joking type_ she thought. Mind you, now wasn't the best time to be making digs at his very 1800s British-cottage-apartment-thing.

"Never mind," she stood up stiffly. She'd better go then, if he so obviously didn't want her there. She tried not to linger on the feel of his strong arms about her. Instead she focused on his cold aloofness which seemed to say everything: get the fuck out of my house.

She wandered back into the room – which actually _was _a study, with a makeshift double bed propped up against the corner, surrounding by books and strange furniture. She saw a duffel bag which she assumed was hers.

As she reached for it, searching around for any more of her stuff, she noticed the IV stand. Strange details started sifting through her consciousness. The loose night-shirt draped over her otherwise naked form, the dishevelled patch on her arm where the drip had been wrenched out in her drowsy waking up, photos of her mother and family on the nightstands…

And another photo.

Standing in front of golden spires and towers which gleamed in the sun, stood Darcy with her arms around a very, very happy Jane Foster. Her creased eyes were filled with blue joy, and Darcy's own shaded by sunglasses.

She stared at the photo for a very long time. Memories suddenly filled her. Asgard – Asgard in the summer.

She felt the strange man's presence behind her as he walked into the room. She must have looked a sight – night-gown on, malnourished frame, pallid cheeks and tears in her eyes as she stared like a freak at this framed photo on the nightstand.

Everything started flooding back. Her internship, Jane, Thor, Asgard… coming home from a lecture to find…

Her mind seemed to go blank as she tried to remember what happened next. It was like there were huge holes in everything. She wondered if she were on medication.

Suddenly a portrait filled her memories – a tall, slim, wiry figure with jade eyes and slick black hair. A portrait in the All-Father's palace, framed and hanging in the corridor of the dining hall…

The Plaque beneath it: _Loki Odinson._

She gasped and turned around sharply, staring at the tall, black haired figure who watched her warily, but from a distance.

"Who _are _you?" she whispered.

He visibly retreated internally, his eyes widening and his mouth narrowing into a hard line of worry. He seemed to be searching for the right reply; straightening the centre of his shirt, realigning the buttons fretfully.

"Who am I?" he repeated, but Darcy just folded her arms impatiently. He regained control of himself and stood up straight, staring down at her with that same strange arrogance. _Did he have bipolar or something?_

With a gentle sigh, he said in his lulling, British-accent: "I am Loki. Loki Odinson."


	2. Chapter 2

**Skel: _Reviews, reviews! they make the writing better :D_  
><strong>

**Chapter Two**

Jane Foster lay on the huge, four-poster bed in her huge, ornate palace of a room. She hated the elaborateness which Thor loved so much – he said it reminded him of home. And their new home really was a little too Asgard-esque for her taste. For starters _everything _was gold. Gold freaking pillows, gold freaking tables, gold freaking _computer _for crying out loud.

But as she studied all the gold, her mind was a little too preoccupied with something else. Thor, in all his god-like beauty, was sauntering through the house with nothing but socks on. She sighed and wilted into the bed. How did _she, _nerdy astrophysicist Jane, snab the most beautiful guy in the world?

It was beyond her, but there she was, lying in bed, no clothes on, a golden sheet draped over her, reliving the night before. She was still reeling – not only were Gods _big_, but they were also seriously creative.

Suddenly the phone interrupted her swooning – with a jolt she recognised the blaring sound of Iron Maiden which blasted through her room. She hadn't brought herself to change the personalised ringtone Darcy had set on her phone all those months ago, and was glad she hadn't because she would have otherwise ignored it. She sprawled across the bed hurriedly to pick it up before it had done its second ring.

"Darcy!" she shrieked into the phone, "Oh my God, I can't believe it! You're awake! You're alive! How are you feeling? Did you just wake up? Where's Loki?" She was speaking so fast she wondered if Darcy could keep up. She couldn't. She was on the other end of the phone, trying to make sense of Jane's babble.

"Uhm… hi?" she said feebly into the phone. "How did you know it was me?"

"Iron Maiden," Jane said absently, gesturing for Thor to come over. His mouth was stuffed with what she assumed was cornflakes but couldn't tell. He arched his eye-brow as he came to sit beside her in all his nakedness.

"Oh… right," Darcy's voice sounded very quiet. Very uncharacteristic.

"Darc? You okay?" Jane piqued, holding the phone closer to her ear. She could hear a hushed breathing sound on the other end. She exchanged a worried glance with her husband.

"Um…" Darcy's voice squeaked, "why is Loki here?"

Jane didn't know what to reply with. Thor read her expression and snatched the phone off her. "Darcy!" he said, "It is I. Thor Odinson," his voice boomed as if he were talking to her from a great distance. Jane ran her palm down her face. Thor had yet to master cellphones.

"Uh…hey Thor. How's things?"

"The things are all in order, Miss. Lewis. You need not concern yourself with our material objects," Jane buried her face in the pillows.

"No, I meant—oh never mind. Listen dude, why's your brother rocking around this apartment thingo, dressed like a Calvin Klein model, and cooking me breakfast?" Darcy's voice sounded annoyed and Thor felt a little cornered. He'd always felt cornered by Miss. Lewis. She had a quick tongue like his brother, and although Jane was intelligent, she was no match for Darcy's wit which he found very intimidating.

"Miss. Lewis!" Thor boomed. Darcy was now holding the phone an arms-length from her ear, "I assure you everything is fine. You slipped into the Odinsleep after Jane's portal went awry. We had you returned to earth in order that you could slumber in relative familiarity." Thor grinned at Jane who just looked very worried. "May I converse with my brother?" he continued.

"Uh… he's out. Said he… needed some more coffee. I didn't even know Gods drank coffee…" her tangent lead into silence. Thor felt a little awkward.

"Oh, I see… Miss. Lewis what is the matter? Are you simply shocked that you have awoken to find him there? I thought that would be an easy connection to make – he does care for you."

Darcy froze. _What? _She'd never even _met _the guy, except in paintings. And all she'd heard – and witnessed – was his cold aloofness which drove her nuts.

"Um… come again?" she mumbled.

"He cares for you, Miss. Lewis!" Thor broke into a wide grin, "Who else would he trust to care for you other than himself. Stop worrying yourself and go to him. He shall explain everything." And with that Thor passed the phone back to Jane, very pleased that he'd been able to out-word the young girl.

"D—Darcy?" Jane said softly, "everything okay?"

But Darcy was silent on the other end. She was missing something huge. Missing a whole lot. Unless Loki had decided to "care for her" while she was knocked out for three months, then she was definitely missing something.

"Jane… I don't even know Loki," she said softly, biting her lip.

"What do you mean you don't know him?" Jane's voice was very strained. She looked back to Thor with a look that said something was very, very wrong.

"I mean, I've never met the guy. I only just managed to recognise him from some painting I'd seen on Asgard… the last thing I remember was coming back to my dorm room to find…" there was that strange gap in her memory again. What had she found?

Jane was very quiet. After a beat, she said into the phone very seriously: "Darcy, I'm coming to get you. Everything's fine." And then she hung up the phone.

"What the hell…?" she whispered to the air. Everything was definitely _not _fine. Why was everyone being so _vague? _Why was Loki all of a sudden a part of everyone's lives, when he'd tried to commit genocide and kill his own brother? And why was she suddenly very afraid she wasn't in America anymore as she looked out over the city which was framed by her window. Strange, quaint buildings lined all the streets, and the skyline was very foreign.

And then her heart did summersaults as she recognised a silhouette on the horizon. A tall tower, tapered to a point, with a faint circle in the middle…

"_Big Ben_?" she whispered, gripping onto the sheets. "I'm in _London_?"

Panic settled in. She couldn't breath – she felt like her throat had suddenly been sealed shut. She rolled into a ball and tried to make herself as small as possible, as deep, heaving breaths rolled in and out of her. She was hyperventilating. _What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…_

Suddenly she heard the door open and close, and small footsteps reverberated on the wooden floor. Her breathing increased and she could feel a tightness across her chest as the panic attack settled in heavily.

_Oh God I haven't had one of these since I was a kid, _she thought. The footsteps were growing louder.

Loki appeared at the door to her room, a bag of groceries in one hand, his cellphone in the other. She heard a muffled _thud _as the bag fell to the floor, and he raced over to her. His white, concerned face flooded her vision.

"…cy…arcy….Darcy!" the sound vacuum shifted so she could hear his voice. She felt like she were looking at him through a tunnel. His hands were everywhere, patting her head, touching her cheek, rubbing her arm. _He must be _seriously_ bipolar, _she thought absently.

"Darcy, I heard from Jane. She and Thor are on their way. Hush now, shh… stop crying," she was crying? Man, everything was turning upside down. She hardly ever cried.

"W—what's going on?" she blubbered through thick tears. "I'm seriously confused."

Loki sighed, "There seems to have been some… complications with your recuperation," he bit his lip as he looked away from her. Why was he always doing that?

"W—what d—do you m—mean?" so she was sobbing now. Great.

He still wouldn't look at her, and he seemed to be choosing his words _very _carefully. "I—I understand you may find this somewhat strange—" _yeah that's the understatement of the century "—_but I hope you will endeavour to comprehend what I am about to tell you."

She waited with her heart racing.

"You… were meant to fall into a coma," he said softly, "after… Jane's attempts to portal you to Asgard, there were… some complications. The intensity of the travel, coupled with Jane's weakened magic rendered you – a mere mortal – in complete disorient and with some severe damage." She didn't like the way he said "mere mortal" like he was very superior to her. She frowned slightly.

He continued: "We - er, I, - attempted to right the wrongs within your mind, but… it came at a price. Some of your memory has been damaged, most without repair. Additionally, from what I've heard from Jane, you have forgotten almost the entirety of the events leading up to your Odinsleep…"he lowered his eyes to the floor, saying in a very hushed tone, "…including how you met me."

Darcy felt very cold all of a sudden. There was something about his expression which was a little too conflicted. It didn't sit well with her – she didn't like seeing him like that. Although she hardly knew him - which apparently she actually did – she felt a tenderness towards him.

"Um… okay… that makes sense. I guess…" her panic attack seemed to be subsiding. Her breath became slightly more regular as she rubbed her eyes mechanically.

Loki muttered something beneath his hand: "…wasn't supposed to happen like this…"

Darcy was going to ask, but then thought better of it. There was something he was keeping from her, and though it irked her that she didn't know what it was, she knew there must be good reason. Jane and Thor were in on it too, maybe she should find out from them instead.

She didn't particularly like this Loki guy. He was too mysterious, and obviously had a huge superiority-complex. But if she'd already met him, and their relationship was at a point where he cared enough to look after her for _three months, _he couldn't be all bad… could he?

"So… why are we in London?" she asked suddenly, wiping some of the small tears from her cheeks. _How embarrassing._

"Oh yes, I suppose that would be a rather big surprise…" he said absently. "Truthfully… I became bored of New Mexico… too much desert." He stroked his chin thoughtfully, "besides London was the only place I could feel better about my way of speaking. A lot of people here have… what do you call it? … a _British _accent?"

Darcy smiled despite herself, "yeah I guess you'd fit in a little better here," she arched her brow, "but what about me? I'm going to sound like some hick-tourist whenever I go out."

Loki suddenly smirked, looking at her from the side; "_your _comfort is none of my concern. I was merely thinking of myself."

Darcy narrowed her eyes. Was he joking or being serious? He _had _looked after her for three months, so he had to be joking… but then there was that smug arrogance which danced about in his eyes. She was instantly fuming.

"Whatever," she hissed. London wasn't so bad. But then as she tried to imagine her life fitting into this strange new city, she gasped.

"What about Uni! What about my Degree!" she cried out. "If I've been ill for three months... And I'm in another fucking _country… _oh my god!" She leaped out of bed, standing to face him.

"Explain yourself! How the fuck does coming to _London _increase my chances of becoming an activist with a degree, huh? Well?" She folded her arms. Boy was he going to pay if he'd ended her enrolment.

"I terminated your enrolment," he said simply. "I see no problem."

Darcy clenched her fists. "What… the… fucking… _fuck _am I going to do _now_!" she threw her hands up into the air and stormed into the living room. "I'm stuck here, in fucking pom-land, with no degree, no job, no money, and to top it off I have an arrogant, selfish, second-rate, _frost-giant—"_

Loki was suddenly before her, swirling into existence before her very eyes. His gaze was bitterly cold, and his fingers curled into fists of ice. Darcy visibly retreated into herself, regretting every word.

"Understand your place," he said simply. "My decisions regarding you are without negotiation." And with that he evaporated, only to reappear in the kitchen, unpacking the groceries. Darcy gulped.

His last words pained her. She felt very much like a prisoner, and something told her that trying to escape would be foolish. There was something all too paternal about the way Loki looked at her… talked to her.

She hated it. _No one_ was her father. She was a fiercely independent feminist, who did _not – _I repeat _did not – _need a man to depend on. Loki's sudden entrance into her life in the most strangest of ways rendered her … futile. And sickeningly dependant.

She sat down on the sofa feeling tears again. Silent ones which spilled over the rims of her eyes softly.

"I want to go home," she said to him. He ignored her.

"Did you hear me? I said I—"

"I heard you," he didn't turn, but continued to stash things away, never meeting her gaze. "You cannot."

"Bullshit '_I cannot,_'" she mimicked his cold accent, and stared hotly at him through her tears. "I want. To go. _Home."_

The air shifted and he appeared in front of her. He was unbelievably tall as she sat, and he made no move to bend to her level. Straightening his shirt and brushing down his sleeves he said quietly:

"Darcy. It is in your best interest that you remain here. Eventually, you will be able to return home, however if you do so now, not only will I find you and bring you back, but there is a high chance that you will do yourself some serious harm." He suddenly ducked and crouched in front of her. The mask of aloofness melted in a sudden show of warmth which totally disarmed her. All she could see were the depths of his eyes, green and staring.

"I will not allow that to happen," he said ardently.

Did he have to keep doing that? She was beginning to hate his mood swings. One minute she wanted to kill him, the next she wanted to leap into his arms and never let go.

"So… is Thor right?" she whispered.

"What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly moving his face closer towards her. _What the hell?_

"T—Thor… he said … you cared for me," she stuttered, realising how close his lips were to hers. Was he going to kiss her? Her entire body was weak and hollow, and her hands began to shake by her side.

He smiled then, a beautiful, diminutive smile, and moved to kiss her tenderly on the forehead. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. She had to tell him to stop being so _damned _fickle. She wanted him to be like this all the time.

But he moved away and straightened, vanishing into the kitchen yet again. No response, just that same illusion of distance.

She pouted. Her lady parts were begging for a continuation of what he'd started, and her mind was revelling in the sensation of his soft lips on her skin… but a well of anger cheered for revenge. Kill the bastard. Cut out his heart and feed it to him on a platter. Cut off his head and spit acid down his throat –

"Acid has no effect on me," he replied softly. She blanched. _Oh…shit. No way._

"You can read my mind! Get out of my head!" she shrieked. But he only chuckled softly as he started making a coffee.

"Would you like one?" he was so cheery, as if there were nothing wrong, and he turned to her with a cheeky grin plastered all over his face.

"Ugh! I'll make it myself," she yelled, bustling into the kitchen. In her fury, she poured a little too much coffee into the cup. She didn't care, she was proving a point.

"That is why _I _am the barrister," he said by her side in a husky tone. She felt her body react to his voice, and tried not to swoon. He chuckled. _Always with the fucking chuckling._

"This is a little difficult for you, isn't it?" he murmured into her ear. _Back off, _she thought. But he obviously had selective hearing because he just moved closer.

"Oh this is _delightful."_ He lulled, brushing back the hair from her neck. She flinched and he laughed again. "Your confliction is far too amusing to resist."

She continued making her coffee. _Pretend he's not there, pretend he's not there, pretend he's not—_

He moved his fingers to grasp the spoon in her hand. He was behind her now, in a very intimate position. She felt like she were in some lame cliché of a movie, with the guy showing her how to bowl, or shoot an arrow…

"Or make coffee," he finished as she scowled, "your methods are far too inefficient." He stroked her wrist as he took the spoon off of her, then began to empty some of the excess coffee. She realised she was caged as both his arms walled her in. She could feel him on her back and tried not to whimper. It was too pleasant a feeling. Everything within her wanted to fight back and yell at him and kick him in the nuts, but she just couldn't. Her body wouldn't let her.

He laughed darkly at the base of her neck. "I'm glad I can do this to you without you remembering anything," he said. She arched her brow.

"What are you talking about?" she breathed. To her horror she realised how flaky she sounded. His effect on her was extreme to the point where she thought she'd lose control of herself completely.

Thankfully he stiffened and pulled away. "Nothing, nothing," he said absently, stirring the coffee in his hands.

She huffed, "I'm over the mystery," she tried to sound demanding but his smirk remained. She scowled and reached for the cup in his hands. _At least let me make my own damned coffee._

But he shifted his hands and continued, flicking his fingers at the milk carton which floated over and poured milk into the cup. He stirred a little more, his delicate fingers guiding the spoon around without touching it.

"There, Miss. Lewis," he crooned. "Fit for a Queen."

"Yeh yeh, nice theatrics Houdini, but I've seen enough of that magic shit on Asgard. It does not impress me." She sipped at the coffee. _Damn, but it was good._

"Oh I can think of many ways to impress you, Miss. Lewis," he whispered at her. She shivered and tried to ignore him, avoiding his gaze at all costs because she knew the moment she looked at them, she'd turn into that quivering mass of sexual-tension she'd been before. And she didn't much feel like a change of underwear.

He laughed darkly. "Or are you already impressed? Let's see how far we can push this mischief…" She suddenly felt something tighten about her hips… what the hell?

She yelped as she felt the fabric of her panties rise up into her crotch, and then remain there, pressed against her most sensitive spot. Off balance, she let go of her cup, which he caught deftly and threw into the sink with a loud _clang. _She moaned as the fabric began to move, and reached back for the counter.

Her mind tried to reason with her. _The creepiest creepster on the planet is trying to turn you on. Don't be fooled! Don't be fooled!_

But everything else screamed for more, and she kept seeing flashes of his kind face… the gentle look in his eyes as he'd moved to kiss her… as he'd told her he would protect her.

"Oh God…" she groaned into her fist. The fabric was moving faster now, and he was moving closer. He encased her again with his arms, pinning her to the bench. His face was inches from her, grinning wickedly at her in her painful pleasure.

He brushed her hair aside from her ear, and she could hear the wet sound of him licking his lips. He hummed: "Miss. Lewis… understand that I am the God in this scenario. No matter what you do, how you feel… I will protect you, and I will never leave you…" His lips bit into her lobe, and she whimpered, feeling a blush rise up all across her face and ears. He smiled against her temple.

"I can disarm you in a second. I could eradicate your very existence from the earth with a flick of my fingers. But you are fun, mortal, and I think I will play with you for a little while longer."

Her mind was reeling. This man had some serious split-personality issues. He was her protector, her tormentor, her jailor…

And right now all she wanted was for him to be her lover. Abandoning all reason, she suddenly felt a flush of excitement as she realised he wasn't going to harm her, even though he could. He cared for her, even if he wanted to toy with her. She didn't particularly mind that, all of a sudden.

There was something, tugging at her mind, which told her she could trust him. She _knew _him somehow… knew he was worth trusting…

On impulse, she threw herself at him and kissed him fully on the lips, her fingers lacing themselves into his hair.

And then she screamed out as an unbearable pain shot through her brain and down her spine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Skel: _This is the biggest head-trip to write :S_  
><strong>

**Chapter Three**

_Foolish, foolish, foolish! _He chided. Once again he found himself in the same, familiar position, seated beside Darcy as she slept. He'd knocked her out as soon as the pain had started, realising instantly that he'd allowed her to relive one of those painful memories.

He brought his fingers to his lips, gazing on at her sleeping face like he had so many times. _Surely, _he thought, _the research I'd done would have told me what to watch out for._

But he'd given into his urges. Everything in him was so intensely tuned to her. The moment he'd seen her awake, all he wanted to do was love her in every way possible. He'd been _desperate _for her. Almost needed her to be with him all the time.

And so it had taken everything in him to deny those thoughts and feign indifference. He was a talented liar, and his face was a mask he knew she couldn't see through, but it was a struggle nonetheless.

And then she hadn't stuck to the plan. She'd gone and rung Thor, gone and had a panic attack, gone and acted all defiant and proud which he'd always found _so _tempting about her. The thought of disarming her and dominating her was so powerful he couldn't resist.

And he _did not _expect her to play along.

After the first months, he'd begun devising plans. Ways to make her love him again, as well as infinite ways to enjoy himself. Toying with her, as he'd discovered, would not entice old memories to resurface – their relationship had never been based on those feelings as he'd been focused on his own turmoil. She'd been but a small part of his reality.

But now she was everything. And she was so much _fun. _And it thrilled him even more that his toying with her wouldn't disrupt her recovery. In fact, if anything, it would aid her.

He'd had many conferences with his father about Darcy's condition. He'd told him that the spell worked like a switch: it could be turned on and off at will, based on the memories it was associated with. The minefield was that the memories could be triggered by anything remotely similar – smells, emotions, words, expressions etc. Hence why they moved from New Mexico to London – nothing environmental could stimulate her here.

The other difficulty had of course been himself. How could Loki remain with her without memories being triggered. He'd undergone a remodelling – changing his clothes, re-writing his mentality, and even trying to change his mannerisms. It helped that he could read her mind, because he'd know exactly when he was going too far or coming to close to resembling the Loki she'd forgotten.

Odin had explained to him exactly how the "switch" worked. Loki had initially believed the condition to be permanent, but his father had provided him with more hope. If the venom worked like a switch, it simply had to be detached.

Just _how _this was to be achieved, Loki had no clue. Of course he'd thrown himself into research, revising old magic tomes, raiding the Àlfheim libraries, studying their art of spells and tricks of the mind. Nothing had come up, but still he continued.

When he'd decided to move, in his new room he'd set up a study desk, so that he could conduct his research in a mundane manner. As Darcy was to be staying with him for quite some time, he needed to be able to do it discreetly and without questioning from her.

He suddenly felt a small thrill as he thought of Darcy living with him – actually living with him, rather than just sleeping with him… (he tried not to smile like a school-boy at the innuendo.) The thought of waking up every morning to her presence, hearing her voice through the walls, watching her as she went about her Darcy-things, sharing meals with her, cleaning with her, talking with her…

It was a beautifully domestic scene in his mind, heightened by the possibilities of mischief which were rife. He just couldn't help himself. Now that she was safe, his talent for trickery was beginning to resurface.

Additionally, if he toyed with her as he had in the kitchen, her mind would be entirely focused on something else other than the confusion of lost memories. She would not be free to remember painful things, instead focused on instinct and sensation. If he could fill her with lust or pleasure, maybe therapeutically the pain would eventually diminish.

He grinned mischievously. So much _fun _to be had.

However he knew the dangers. If at any point she had the same emotions she did in the kitchen, her memories could easily be triggered. As she had come onto _him _in those memories, her coming onto him again would have the wrong effect. Yet, if _he _were the instigator – if he were the tormentor, the dominator, the lead so to speak, all would be safe.

"Oh Darcy," he crooned, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. He felt a small stab of guilt – should he really be thinking of such things when she was in such a serious condition? He smirked – _nah._

He knew Jane and Thor were on their way. They were still in America, working with S.H.I.E.L.D. and instead of attempting magic again, he knew Jane would opt for the conventional method of travel. He'd spoken with her on the phone and she'd told him they'd be there as soon as possible – she'd been furious for no apparent reason. Jane was fiercely over-protective of Darcy, and despised the fact that it was Loki taking care of her and not Jane herself.

He smiled – no matter. Annoying Jane was second only to annoying Darcy. Unfortunately Thor was impossible to annoy, because if he weren't, that would have been his favourite thing to do. Even more unfortunate was the fact that _Thor_ could veryeasily annoy _Loki_. He scowled – he didn't like that Thor would be coming as well.

Darcy suddenly shifted in her bed, her eye-lids stuttering. He smiled warmly – she must be dreaming. As he watched her like a hawk, he realised how soft he'd become. Half of him hated it, and wanted the simple passion of mischievous lust which he thought was more himself. But the other half wondered how to handle this new, pleasant emotion. Images of him opening car doors and sweeping her off her feet and kissing her at sunset flashed before him. _Eugh._ They were such sappy images.

_Torn between being a gentleman and being a fiend, _he mused, rubbing his chin. He'd have to be careful he didn't lose too much of himself to this girl. Her powers were not to be underestimated.

He sighed. But he loved her – completely. Conflicted and confused and disarmed, he still loved her. And as he watched her breathing he knew he'd love her forever, no matter how he had to act or what he had to do to protect her – he always would.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he saw a text message. He groaned – it was from Thor:

"GREETINGS BROTHER. WEARE ABORAD THE VESSEL KNOWN AS A PLAYNE AND WILL BE WITHYOU AND MIRSLEWIS PRESENTLY. MAKE SURE THAT MISS LEWIS KNOWS THE THINGSAREALL FINE. SINCRERELYTHOR."

Loki ran his palm down the length of his face. Not only could he barely spell with a phone, but Thor seemed intent on yelling even in text messages. At least Loki had been intelligent enough to learn the ways of Midgard before moving here to live.

So they were about to board the plane – that gave him a while to get things sorted, their arrival was still a long way off.

He reluctantly left Darcy with a soft kiss on her forehead – it was becoming his signature - and went to conduct some more research.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

"Blarghrghmsfshfphfphhh…" Darcy moaned in shock, her face in her pillow. She'd just woken up with a start from the strangest dream of her life. She still couldn't decide if it were a nightmare or a wicked fantasy.

She rubbed her eyes blearily. It felt like all she was doing was fainting and waking up. Fainting and waking up. At least she awoke in the same place this time. She was a little over surprises as of late.

"Hey Darc," a tentative voice said beside her. She wheeled around to see Jane and a rather imposing Thor sitting on chairs by her bedside. Her eyes widened – that was fast. Unless she'd been out all night. She looked at the antique clock on her bedside table – yep. All night. And most of the morning, by the looks of things.

"Jane, Thor," she said happily, turning back to them. Finally, some relatively _normal _people, unlike that tormentor of hers. Where was he anyways? Not that she actually cared - she was still _furious _about the kitchen-scene. Not only had he pretty much raped her with her own knickers, but he'd made her _enjoy _it. That bitch was gonna pay. Big time.

"Oh Darcy!" Jane's hesitation abruptly vanished as she grabbed Darcy in a vice of a hug, which she didn't think even remotely possible for Jane. She was a twig after all. Darcy hugged her back, smiling weakly.

"Hey nerd, long time no see, apparently," she pulled away and gave Jane a knowing look. "Things got pretty messy, or so I've heard. You might want to think about brushing up on your "magic" skills before you zap people around again." Despite her tone, Darcy was jovial. She truly liked being around Jane. And even Thor, to an extent.

"My wife has decided to pursue other talents," he said happily, "we leave the magic to Loki."

Darcy nodded, "speaking of Gods of Mischief, why the hell would you put Loki in charge? He's a fucking menace."

Suddenly Loki materialised in her room, standing behind the pair with an apathetic look on his aquiline features.

Thor ignored his mood: "because he cares for you, Miss. Lewis, I thought we already had this discussion." Darcy shook her head.

"Whatever, next time get a baby-sitter or something," she waved her hands at them, looking around her room. The drip had been removed.

Loki frowned. "I thought _we _had this discussion, Miss. Lewis. My decisions regarding you are not up for negotiation." _Ugh. _There was that disgustingly protective tone he was so fond of. Darcy scowled.

"So anyways Jane, there's some explaining to do," she folded her arms and pursed her lips. "Just what the heck happened?"

Jane bit her lip and looked to Loki. He was a statue, giving no hints or help whatsoever. Jane gulped and answered: "uh… what do you want to know? Hasn't Loki told you everything?"

"I'm not talking to him at the moment. He's a sick rapist." She didn't look at him, but she could tell he stiffened even more, and she heard a strangled sound, like a dying chicken.

Jane blanched, "uh…okay?" she looked to Loki accusingly, but he wasn't paying attention.

"So you'll have to do the dénouement," Darcy said, "I want to know why my memory has pot-holes all through it – and why _he's _here all of a sudden – and why I'm in London – and why I get these ridiculously painful headaches sometimes – and why I keep fucking fainting and waking up in strange places." She didn't feel like a panic attack was imminent, but she was definitely off-balance. It had only been two days since she woke up, and already she'd been exposed to way too many weird things.

"Uh… well the memory bit is because of the magic," Jane said carefully, "because I wasn't advanced enough in making worm-holes, it mind-fucked you a little." Darcy smiled internally at her choice of phrasing. Surprisingly, Jane had thoroughly enjoyed _Get Him To The Greek._

"Okay… and what about him," she gestured to the aloof Loki statue.

"Um… like Thor said. He… c—cares about you…?" it was a question aimed at the statue. She watched Loki warily, but he made no objections, or even acknowledged she existed. He was staring out at the traffic moving silently along the road.

"Listen Darc," Jane said, " it should really be him explaining these things. Hasn't he done it already?"

"As a matter of fact I have," he said fluidly, watching the window. "She refuses to listen."

Darcy rolled her eyes, "no. I heard you. I just refused to like it coming out of _your _mouth. I want Jane to tell me."

Loki scowled and looked at her levelly, "you are a child, Miss. Lewis."

"I'm the child?" her voice was strained, "who was it that tried to molest the crap out of someone much more vulnerable than themselves, on the kitchen bench?" She whipped the sheets off her legs and jumped out of bed to stride over to him. She pointed a finger at his chest and began poking him.

"_You're _the one being all mysterious. _You're _the one with bipolar, and _you're _the one being a fucking child!" she tried to shove him but he was immovable. He simply watched on, slightly amused.

"No matter. I do what I want," and with that he leered at her. Darcy narrowed her eyes,

"Uh… brother. Come now… the time for fun and games will come soon. But right now Miss. Lewis is distraught…" Thor stood and tried to calm the two of them down. The tension in the room was too much for him to bear.

Jane just scowled at Loki, and muttered something about "lecherous snakes" under her breath.

"I informed you, Miss. Lewis," Loki continued, eyeing Darcy like an insect, "of the cause of your amnesia – and also informed you that you have no memory of ever meeting me, which would explain your _childish _disgust at my being the one to take care of you." He stepped closer to her now, towering above her, "I also explained the reasoning behind my decision to move her. As for the headaches and fainting…" he suddenly gripped her wrist and leered into her face "…are you certain it is not for _other _reasons?"

Darcy quivered. _Damn. _All her concerns faded slightly as he gazed at her with his very big, very green, very beautiful…

"Darcy!" Jane cried out, breaking the trance. "Loki…" she hissed menacingly. "Enough."

Loki simply grinned, not letting go of Darcy's wrist. He pulled her a little closer, then released her. She fell, off-balance, back onto the bed with a slight bounce and a fuzzy feeling in her head. He had the strangest, most sensational effect on her.

"Uh…" she rubbed her eyes, "anyway…whatever. It's good to see you Jane," she smiled shakily at her best friend.

Jane shook her head, trying to hide her irritation at the pervert who now stood like a statue again. "Yeah you too Darc."

Thor grinned widely, "enough chatter! I believe food is in order. As reunited friends we must have a feast!" Jane rolled her eyes.

"Again with the feasting? We have fucking feasts for everything."

"I see no problem with a feast," Thor boomed, wrapping Jane up in one of his arms. She looked like a twelve year old compared to him.

"Actually… I'm pretty starving," Darcy said. "Can we go get some takeout? Pizza maybe? Or McDonalds?" her eyes brightened. She seriously felt like a Big Mac right now.

Loki sniffed, "what about somewhere a little more refined?"

That did it. "Maccas it is then," she smirked. Thor stood with Jane still tucked under his arm. Oblivious, he strode out of the room, carrying Jane like a doll with her feet off the ground. She laughed despite her situation. Darcy smiled too – they were such an amusing couple.

She tried not to look at Loki. The rapist pervert.

"After you, Miss. Lewis," he suddenly said warmly. _Say what? He was being nice now?_

"If you think I'm going to forgive you for your molesting tricks just 'cause you're playing Mr. Darcy, you're sooooo wrong," and with that she stomped out of the room, with him following silently behind. She could almost _feel _him smirking at her.

"Your forgiveness is no concern of mine. Your reactions, however, are more than amusing. So long as you are breathing, I promise you I will give you plentiful reasons to hold a grudge against me. Your anger is the very highlight of my existence."

Darcy just about popped a blood vessel.

"Come Miss. Lewis, brother, The McDonald's Feast awaits!" Thor gestured from the door. Just as well. Darcy was about to sever Loki's manhood.

"I should like to see you try," he hummed into her ear as he passed her. He sauntered off with a graceful lope, shouldering a tailored tweed jacket on as he did so. He turned back to her slightly at the door and lowered his head, smugly smiling at her with that signature lop-sided smirk of his. Despite herself she melted, then wanted to kill him a thousand times over.

"I hope you choke on a Big Mac," she hissed as she followed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Skel: **_**Oh my god I cannot believe I wrote this and didn't ask someone to kill me straight away. Good lord. Someone cut off all my fingers so I can never write again. I am laughing way too hard.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

Steve Rogers didn't particularly mind the new New York. The bustle and thriving busyness excited him every time he even looked out the window, or dared to set foot on the streets.

But for the first time in a long time he felt utterly bored out of his mind. He started at the strange Television set they'd given him. Unable to change the channel - as the thought of figuring out the strange "remote-control" device frightened him - he was stuck watching Discovery.

All of a sudden a strange British accented man started speaking to him as a new program started. It reminded him a little of Peggy, and he felt that same severe disappointment settle in his core. He turned the volume up.

"The male Lion stalks his prey – this time, it is a female lioness, who is in heat…"

Rogers paled. _Does in heat mean what I think it means?_

"As he follows her, they begin their mating ritual. The Male Lion puts her in a stranglehold and begins to…" the voice faded out as Rogers felt unbearably ill – and painfully pleasant at the same time. He brought his knees up about him, shaking slightly. The lions were rolling around in some desert wasteland, making very strange noises… the female in particular…

He felt something _very _strange in his stomach, which quivered down towards an area he tried never to think about. With a small yelp he felt it move on its own.

"Aaaargh!" he cried, leaping out of bed and rushing to the bathroom. Maybe he was having some weird side-effect from the whole freezing-in-time thing… He pulled his boxer shorts down and had a good long look. Everything seemed to be going back to normal – "Thank God," he breathed. That was the scariest thing he'd ever experienced.

There was short sharp rap at the door and he froze. He quickly pulled on one of the hotel's bathrobes and raced for the door, hoping the episode had passed completely.

Swinging it open he found none other than Nick Fury standing at the door. His one good eye appraised the robed Captain America with obvious distaste.

"I need you dressed and ready to travel in no less than twenty minutes," he said in his military voice. _Was it really necessary for the guy to speak that way all the time?_

"Uh… right away sir," Rogers said quickly and then bit his lip. "W—where are we going sir?"

Fury stared at him through his brow. _Man the guy really lives up to his name, _Rogers thought as he gulped.

"London. There's someone you need to meet," was all he said. He walked away, leaving Rogers leaning out of his hotel door confusedly. After a moment he slunk back inside and proceeded to get ready, turning off the disturbing television program as he went.

* * *

><p>"A Medium Big Mac meal with a strawberry milkshake for the drink and an ice-cream-in-a-lid thanks," Darcy rattled off quickly. All three of her companions turned to look at her with confusion and slight concern all over their faces.<p>

She turned to them with considerable non-chalance: "what? You said to order a feast – this is my feast." Jane shook her head then turned to the server. "I'll just have a cheeseburger thanks."

Darcy rolled her eyes. Of _course _Jane would "just have" a freaking cheeseburger. She'd probably ask for a skim-trim-no-fat-watery-coffee as well. Thor arched his brow.

"My love, there is the same meal, but you order it happy!" he seemed genuinely pleased that he'd found a way to have a happy cheeseburger. "It is called a 'Happy Meal,' isn't that much more agreeable than a regular meal?" Jane sighed.

"No…Thor… you don't get it. It comes with a toy—"

"A toy! Now I see why it is a Joyous Meal! I require this meal – and another for my wife." He hugged her sideways and she just smiled worriedly. The server watched them warily then proceeded to punch the order in slowly.

Darcy tried not to cry with laughter. She looked to Loki, who was studying the menu with particular disgust.

"And these are all… edible?" he said from behind his long white fingers, which rubbed at his top-lip absently. Darcy grunted with frustration.

"Do you have to be so rude all the time?"

He just cleared his throat, "it is not rude if you are merely presenting a state of mind. I do not believe these… _foods… _to be edible, and so I voice my opinion. Is that so wrong?"

"Here it is," she said angrily. After a moment of continued perusal, Loki still hadn't decided what he wanted. So Darcy just ordered for him:

"_Another_ Big Mac meal… but make it a large," she watched Loki agitatedly. He simply smiled subtly from behind his hand. His eyes crinkled and Darcy felt a little heady – there was something about his smile which sent tingles down her everywhere. She gripped the counter for support.

"Uh.. that'll be $27" the server said in a cockney accent. But before they could pay, she'd bustled off. _Ugh, _Darcy hated it when they did that.

After a short moment, their food appeared on the counter. Darcy went to pick up the tray, Jane about to follow her, when Thor stopped them. He and Loki were staring wide-eyed at the magic appearance of food before them.

"What is this witchcraft!" Thor boomed. Everyone turned to stare and Jane hid her face in his chest. Darcy tried not to make eye-contact with anyone. _Note to self: never bring Norse Gods to Macky D's… ever._ Loki, too, was staring with particular bemusement, looking towards the server and the food, then back to the server.

"Are you some sort of magician, Lady?" Loki asked softly. The girl seemed _very _disarmed by his sudden intensity. Darcy laughed without humour – she knew _exactly _how she felt.

Suddenly Loki was beside her, forking out some notes from a rather expensive looking leather wallet. He placed the pile onto the counter and Darcy noted with horror that he'd just tipped about a hundred bucks over the asking price.

"Um… Loki?" her eyes widened, "that's a little too much."

"No. I am merely doing what you mortals call _tipping. _The speed of the food delivery was quite impressive … for a mortal. Thank you for your efficiency, Lady." He bowed his head slightly and grabbed the tray off of Darcy, walking to join his brother and sister-in-law at a cramped little table. Darcy felt very annoyed for some reason.

Then she caught sight of Thor in the corner on the diner-seat, cramped up with the table cutting into his gut. She grinned – they may as well be in a comic strip.

"Are Midguardians always so small?" he asked Jane loudly. Loki glided into the seat with ease, though as Darcy came to sit beside him, she noticed his knees were knocking against the table-top.

"I stand by my opinion that we should have gone somewhere more _refined," _he looked at Darcy pointedly but she continued to ignore him. She was too excited for her feast.

"Here," she said off-handedly, throwing the Big Mac over to Loki. He wrinkled his nose.

Thor was tearing eagerly into the plastic wrapping around his toy. It appeared to be some sort of cheap puzzle, but he was beyond happy with his happy meal.

"Oh Jane, my dear, this toy is magnificent! And look! Small potatoes… they certainly grow a strange shape here on Midguard…" he threw a French fry into his gaping maw and munched on it with a ridiculous grin on his face. Jane just laughed. Darcy wanted to slap him.

She watched Loki pick at the wrapping around the burger, staring straight down his nose at the food as if it were his life-long enemy. With a sniff he slowly brought the thing to his mouth, his thin, sensuous lips making burger eating some sick form of pornography. Darcy watched on in fascination as his tongue snuck out of his mouth before he took a small bite. It was so proper it hurt. She was so pissed off at his snobbiness she wanted to kill him.

Impulsion overcame her, and with her spare hand she reached for the burger, slamming it into his face.

As she watched his face, she had a strange, elating, flash of memories. It was like her brain was sifting through all the joyous occasions in her life – first kiss, first shag, that time she'd passed her Algebra exam when she hadn't studied at all, the first time she'd met Jane and Erik, the first time she'd been to Asgard.

She wondered in that split second, that if all of those moments could have been fused into one, and multiplied by a billion, it would not even come remotely _close _to the wicked joy she felt coursing through her veins. _Sweet, sweet, victory!_

A splattering of sauce, lettuce, cheese and a small hunk of pulverised meat patty adorned his face like some Picasso art. His eyes were so huge and full of malevolence she thought the whole restaurant would catch on fire. His mouth was gaping wide, with pieces of tomato and food spilling out of it like a waterfall. She watched on as his hands, still frozen in a position of burger-holding, twitched like he had Tourette's. It was almost as if all time had slammed to a halt, and everyone was waiting for the end of the world. She was vaguely aware of Thor and Jane's similar expressions of horror – though she was more focused on the spectacle beside her.

And then the laughter came. Huge, rolling, waves of laughter which racked at her shoulders and tore through her stomach. Tears began spilling over her cheeks like bullets, and she kept feeling them coming as she caught blurred glimpses of his stony expression. She fell onto the table, shrieking with laughter, and saw Thor guffawing along with her, pointing at his brother's now bright red face through convulsions of hysteria. Jane too, was giggling like a school-girl.

"Oh—oh God… Oh God Loki…" Darcy tried to stop; she knew he'd probably kill them all in about three seconds. But she didn't care. She'd be happy to die after experiencing something like this.

Slowly – painfully slowly and with the fiercest anger she'd ever seen – Loki turned to look at her. His mouth was a thin, hard line now, his nostrils flaring and she could have sworn his eyes were turning red. She only laughed harder.

"Th-think of it… a—as payback," she attempted to say, but the laughter continued to attack her. She thought her stomach would burst from all the laughter.

Loki wiped the muck from his mouth, even under ridicule, he was graceful. His slender fingers picked at the food and slung in onto the tray. It was like all of his malice was poured into every gesture. Darcy found it terribly amusing.

And then she saw the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. As he picked at a piece of lettuce and brought it in front of his eyes, he suddenly burst out into a very wide, very toothy grin – his eyes crinkling and lines creasing into his skin as a sound like a string orchestra flowed out of his smile.

He was laughing, too.

In that moment of sweet stillness, she was vaguely aware of a phone ringing. Now that they were starting to calm down, the faint ringing was more obvious. Still grinning his Cheshire grin, Loki reached for his phone hurriedly and flourished it out of his pocket, bringing it to his ear. Darcy giggled behind her hand – there was still a piece of patty on his chin. Loki glared at her jokingly.

"Loki Odinson speaking," he said softly. _Good Lord, he could be a British businessman, _Darcy thought to herself. He was suddenly so composed it was almost scary.

His jaw tightened, "Fury. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Everyone grew very silent. Jane in particular was very attentive.

"I see," Loki said coldly. "Yes, that will not be a problem, I can assure you." He tweaked the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. The gesture had a strange effect on Darcy – she was both concerned for him, and fascinated by him.

After a beat, Loki straightened and replied; "I understand… Presently." And then he hung up. The table was suddenly deathly quiet. Darcy broke it, still woozy from her hysteria

"What'd the monocle want?" she rubbed her eyes, removing the remaining tears. Loki refused to look at her.

"Something's happened," he said softly, removing the piece of meat from his chin and flicking it away. Darcy noticed his jaw tensing and she realised every inch of him pulsed anxiety. He licked his bottom lip then added:

"Midgard is in danger… again."


	6. Chapter 6

**Skel: **_**Total cluster-cuss is imminent.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

The group stood up swiftly from the table – Loki leaving another ridiculous tip despite Darcy and Jane's protests. Darcy was slightly put out that she hadn't gotten a chance to dunk her chips in her ice-cream-in-a-lid. As they climbed into the taxi, she pouted.

"What is the matter?" Loki asked kind-heartedly as he slipped in beside her. Thor and Jane were catching a different cab.

"I didn't get my feast," she replied simply. Loki chuckled.

"You mean your ice-cream? We have plenty at home—"

"No… I mean I didn't get to dip my chips _in _the ice-cream," she gestured with her hands, "it's what I was waiting for."

Loki blinked, "That's gross," he said, and Darcy just giggled.

"You saying words like 'gross' is gross," she smiled at him and he smiled back. How nice it was to have a good laugh with him. She didn't think him capable of laughing, unless it was an evil villainous laugh or something similar involving cackles and creepy background music. He seemed genuinely happy now.

She wondered what had happened – between the two of them. How _had _they met? And why was he so fiercely protective of her? Even as they'd walked down the street, he'd shifted her across so that he was standing on the road-side, and she was shielded from the traffic.

And the way he watched her every move, like he was making sure she didn't do herself any harm. It was disconcerting, yes, and in most cases the feminist in her would have puked. But there was something strangely endearing about it, coming from him.

What had happened, which caused such a change? How had he evolved from what she knew him to be, into what he was now? All the stories she'd heard on Asgard painted him out to be such a dick. And the whole Jötun genocide thing was way out of line, even for someone with a severe case of sibling/daddy complexes.

Yet here he was, gentle and cunning and mischievous and kind-hearted and ridiculously dominant and completely wayward and totally gorgeous and pathetically conflicted… yeah. She really needed to sort out her sanity before she started deciding she actually liked the guy.

She was staring at him. _Awkward. _Hopefully he hadn't noticed.

_Geez, what's up with me? _Darcy wondered. She was squirming around, biting her bottom lip and fidgeting with her t-shirt…

She thought about how they'd met, in that alternate reality which she was supposed to remember. What had it been like?

"Um… Loki," Darcy said hesitantly. He looked down at her warmly.

"Yes?"

"How…" she furrowed her brow, "how did we meet?"

She tried to decipher his expression but she could not. It was somewhere in between casual indifference and the deepest of sorrows.

He watched the window for a moment, then said without looking at her: "I'll let you decide that," he breathed.

"Huh?"

Suddenly the cab came to a stop. "Seventy quid, mate" the driver said. Loki paid him the fare – and some – then opened the door, leaving Darcy a bit more than confused, and a little annoyed again.

But then he bent down to look at her through the open door. His eyes were full of a strange indulgence – like the look a grandfather might give their infant grandchild when they'd attempted to make sense of the adult world. He held his hand out to her and she blinked.

"I am stooping to your mortal level, Miss. Lewis. I suggest you take my hand," he said softly.

She scowled, but couldn't resist. His hand was very soft and smooth to the touch, and it gently coaxed her out of the cab. He gave her a little squeeze then let go.

"There is a lot of peril to be found in the course of this next meeting," he said cryptically, watching her. "So I shall return once it is over. The cupboards are filled, and you will find your clothes hanging in your new closet…" all of a sudden he drew her awkwardly to him, embracing her lightly. She was too stumped to hug him back, and so just stared wide-eyed over his shoulder.

He drew away and gripped he. She was so bewildered by his intense green gaze that she suddenly felt overwhelmed with some strange sadness. He said softly: "the memories you lost… are of no consequence. You are alive, and free to reinvent a past which you should be happy you've forgotten…" He kissed her forehead. "Reinvent it with me."

And with that he vanished. Just vanished! Darcy choked on a breath in shock, but then calmed herself down. The emotional whirlwind she was feeling rooted her to the spot, and she watched on as the cab drove off and the London bustle continued. Even when she got bitterly cold and her teeth started chattering inside her mouth, she remained. Trying to make sense of things.

After a while, she decided it was best not to mull it all over. He'd be back – she could gruel him with questions then.

"Oh fuck, so I don't get to come along?" she suddenly said angrily. Ugh. _How annoying._

She wished she possessed his talent for magic so she could zap herself around like he did. She'd love to see the look on his face when she suddenly appeared in the middle of the super-important S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting. Put out, she opened the security door and wandered up to the apartment. Maybe she should just pig out on some ice cream and rent out a movie while she waited. She smiled. Escapism in food and film was her favourite Saturday night.

* * *

><p>Loki wafted into view in the middle of the S.H.I.E.L.D. conference room. It was several stories below sea-level, super-high tech security boxing it in from the outside world. Loki entered with ease.<p>

Although he'd seen photographs before, and knew their faces, it was the first time Loki had seen the members of this new team in the flesh. Prior to the Jotunheim fiasco, Loki had done some mild research on Midgard, half out of boredom, half out of a villainous desire to take it over. He'd looked into Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, and the other superior mortals who seemed to pose a threat.

They didn't.

Tony Stark was the first to notice him from across the room. Not only did he show no surprise on his chiselled features, but he also smiled and raised his scotch-glass to him in a gesture of greeting. Loki deduced he was either perpetually drunk, or perpetually apathetic towards all of his environment.

Steve Rogers turned and jumped slightly. Loki inclined his head towards the man – he knew he was slightly more refined than the rest, being born out of a different era. Loki appreciated Midguardian history – it had a certain charm in its infantile squabbles.

The one they called "The Black Widow" – Natasha - was reclining languorously on a couch, martini in hand. She too, showed a little more surprise, but seemed more intent on eye-raping him – as Darcy used to put it - than greeting him properly. Loki internally decided she was very handsome and amply formed for a mortal woman, but her charm was completely lost on him. She clearly had no other weapon apart from the physical. That was not attractive to him in the slightest – as he was the most intelligent being in the nine-realms.

Banner was standing somewhat apart from the rest. Figures. The poor man was a complete outcast, even in the "Superhero" circle. He had no control over his powers, which was a shame, as they were diabolical. Loki gave him a small smile. If he were to raise an army of minions, he would certainly require aid from him.

Clinton Barton, the one they called "Hawkeye" was leaning against a pool-table. He shot a warning glance at Loki, which he deflected with ease, choosing to offer him a playful smirk. Slowly he wandered into the middle of the group.

"Do not be alarmed. I seek _peace _and _safety _for all mortals just as you do," his voice was dripping with sarcasm. Barton clenched his jaw – the guy really didn't like Loki. The rest of the group moved to the balls of their feet, poised for attack. Loki found it utterly amusing.

The room was tense, all save Stark who simply watched the scene from beneath his sunglasses.

"At ease, super-spandex-club," he drawled. "This villain is batting for the right team," he took another swig of his drink then threw the glass onto the pool table. He sauntered over to Loki and stood up tall and straight, meeting his gaze. Loki blinked slowly.

"Mr. Odinson, I believe?" Tony said levelly, offering his hand. There was a hint of amusement in the way he set his mouth which Loki found strangely likeable.

"Mr. Stark," Loki reached for it and shook it stiffly, smirking back at him. This was a man who saw business and pleasure as one sport. Brilliant.

Stark grinned, "Please excuse the children, they're not used to company. In fact, they don't play well with others."

"I'm sure…" Loki rubbed his chin, "and I'll wager you don't either."

Stark laughed, "You're a perceptive one. Come, a drink for the new member of the gang!" he proceeded to pour a shot glass of whiskey. Loki groaned internally – he detested the stuff.

"Yes…a toast," Loki said softly, "to killing infants and stealing women's' undergarments and of course – to mischief and mayhem, "Loki raised his glass and downed the drink in one go, screwing his eyes shut as the disgusting taste rolled down his throat. To his delight the whole group was horrified.

Tony laughed again, "This should be a lot of fun."

"Everyone," Loki began, "My brother and Fury will be here shortly. I have other pressing matters to attend to, so I will be prompt in my explanation." Loki placed his glass carefully on the coffee table, sitting down on a spare chair.

He pressed his fingertips together, "I do not expect you to understand what I am about to tell you, but at this point I do not really care."

The group was silent.

"Nick Fury has called you all here because S.H.I.E.L.D. is putting together a team of… better than average mortals. I am of course referring to you all…"

Everyone scowled except for Stark, who simply smiled smugly. He probably thought himself better than Loki – yes, Mr. Stark was a highly intriguing mortal. Stupid and arrogant – but intriguing.

"The reason for this sudden collection is because Mr. Fury believes the planet to be in danger. I can assure you it is not, and all is fine," Loki continued.

Natasha frowned, "That's all well and good, but how can we know this isn't one of your ploys? You come in here all high and mighty and expect us to believe you? What if _you're _the threat?" Natasha said bitterly.

Loki gave her an indulgent smile. "My dear, that is the reason Fury has called you. He has only just been informed of my arrival – and knows nothing of the reasoning behind it. He suspects me of being up to no good…" at this Loki grinned lop-sidedly, staring at the young "Black Widow" with intensity. "Now why he would suspect a thing like that… is beyond me."

Everyone became very tense all of a sudden.

"So… why _are_ you here?" Stark asked levelly. He was now walking closer to the group, scotch glass in hand.

Loki's expression sobered. "The real reason is because… there is someone here I am bound to protect." Everyone exchanged confused glances, but Tony Stark's brows shot up.

"Oh…" he said softly. Loki narrowed his eyes. Maybe he was more intelligent than he'd given him credit for.

"Anyway," Loki stood, "Fury will attempt to explain to you my mentality. He wishes to … confine me. After learning of my arrival, he told me thus. His reasoning is not only to protect Midgard from my apparent ulterior motives, but also to learn as much as he can from my abilities with magic… which is of course ridiculous as no mortal chains could prevent me from escape…" he clicked his tongue.

"But I can assure you, _Avengers_," he said with particular relish, "I mean this planet no harm. The only way I would again defy my father and give into childish ambition were if it posed a threat to the one I seek to protect…" he looked gravely at each of the members in turn. "I promise you that if any harm befalls her by your hands, I will not hesitate to kill every one of you in an instant."

The tension was palpable. Loki cheered internally – he loved being able to command the atmosphere of a discussion. And he especially loved frightening mortals.

"Fury wished to speak with me himself about the matter, but what he wants to discuss is quite undesirable. I would not be locked up in a compound to be experimented on and watched like some animal."

Banner cleared his throat, "I … understand your distaste," was all he said. Loki nodded at him.

"I take my leave of you, Fury is about to arrive" and with that he vanished, to be replaced by Nick himself and Thor, who strode in through the huge metal doors.

Fury scanned the room with his one piercing eye then scowled, "Where is that damned Loki. He's late."

* * *

><p>Darcy had her hand elbow deep in a tub of hokey pokey ice cream, scooping around with a spoon for the dregs of glorious frozen cream which had now melted to the floor of the tub. She had her mouth covered in sticky sweetness, and her eyes were puffy and red as even more tears spilled out onto her cheeks. She made a strangled sound as Claire Danes woke up and found Leo all beautiful and dead beside her.<p>

"Oh God!" Darcy cried out, sobbing without shame. _Fuck, I hate this movie so much. Die in a hole, Shakespeare!_

She was now trying to place pitiful lumps of ice cream in her mouth with her bare hands, getting it all over her chin and fingers and baggy t-shirt. Blubbering as she did so, there was a sudden noise behind her, and she spun around quickly.

"Loki!" she cried, squinting in the darkness of the room. She'd turned out all the lights and was huddled on the couch with a smattering of junk food and dvd's everywhere. Loki looked very, very frightened.

She hurriedly wiped her eyes and tried to scramble out of the blanket she'd cocooned herself in. Reaching for the remote she paused the movie, and leapt up to flick the lights on.

"Eugh…" she said through a blocked nose. The place was a mess.

"Um…" was all Loki said. She felt like she'd been caught in the act of doing something wrong.

"I'm sorry okay? I have a weakness for depressing movies…" she rubbed at her face, feeling the smudges of ice cream on her mouth and cheeks.

Loki was still frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do. "Did… did something happen? Are you f—feeling ill?" he breathed, watching her warily.

"No… and yes, something _did _happen," she sniffed, "Leo just died! But Juliet died too… but she wasn't actually dead, but he thought she was, so he died, and now she's going to die and everyone's fucking dying all over the place and it's just…" she broke down again, snorting a little as she tried to sniff.

"Wh—who is Leo?" Loki's eyes flickered to the television, where DeCaprio's glorious face was all dead and beautiful… "Is it this man on the Television Box?"

Darcy pouted, "Uh huh," she blubbered.

Realisation dawned. A small, amused grin spread over his perfect features, "So … you were crying because a fictional character has perished tragically in a film along with his lover… and not for any other reason? Like pain or emotional grievances?" Loki's eyes darted around as he watched her every feature.

Darcy scrunched her nose up. Was he genuinely concerned she'd been crying about something else? Why would he care about that? Why didn't he just do the same awkward thing guys do when chicks start weeping uncontrollably and either leave or blame it on PMS?

"Um… yeah, that's it…" she said, gaining control of herself.

And then before she could even blink he had his arms around her, squeezing her to him tightly. "Oh Darcy, you had me very worried there," his voice was full of laughter. His hand was on the back of her head, pressing her face into his _wonderful _smelling shirt. She could feel the thud of his heartbeat on her ear. His other hand was rubbing her back and she felt very, very happy all of a sudden.

Giving in, she melted into his embrace and curved her arms up to grip onto his shirt. Nuzzling her nose into his chest, she inhaled deeply. _Oh that fuck-awesome smell… it's heaven. _She almost felt intoxicated by it.

But then he pulled away – _no! you bastard, come back with your smell! - _ and looked into her face.

"You should do that more often," Darcy said suddenly.

His eyebrow arched, "do what?"

"This," she gestured to him, "the whole awesome hugging thing. It's much better than the whole molesting thing."

Loki stiffened. "Right," he said softly, averting his eyes.

Still without looking at her, he said very seriously, "Darcy… how's your head?"

She blinked, "My head?"

"Yes… does it hurt?"

"Um…" she thought for a moment, "No… it's fine. Apart from the few brain-freezes I got from all the ice-cream… it's fine now. I mean, there was also the crying, that doesn't always help. Wh—"

Suddenly his lips were on her. All she could understand were his lips, softly planting the sweetest kiss on hers – gentle and disarming and subtle. She closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her – his soft tongue dancing on her lips, then pressing them open slightly. She smiled against it and moaned as he pressed her against the wall and kissed her deeper and more intensely_…_

Her knees were turning to jelly; her hands - trying to find purchase in his soft black hair – were slick with sweat. His fingers were behind her neck, pressing into it gently so that she bent into him more. He was so tall! She couldn't feel anything except for him – he completely encased her like a beautiful smelling, black blanket of intensity.

Then he stopped, watching her from above his long nose, his lips inches from her skin.

"How was that, Miss. Lewis?" he asked tenderly, but with a hint of dark mischief in the way his voice reverberated through his chest deeply. She whimpered.

"F—fine…" she breathed, trying to gain control of herself. She was never one for swooning, but this was ridiculous. Her entire body was melting.

He smirked naughtily, suddenly sliding his hands from her face down her neck. She shivered.

"Good…" and he suddenly lifted her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. His bedroom. Very different from her own – with a four-poster bed and seriously nice mood lighting. She wondered how he'd found the time to light candles…

"What the hell?" she asked. "Where did the candles come from?"

Loki didn't reply, but she looked up and saw him grinning. He threw her onto the bed and she bounced backwards, letting out a little yelp of surprise. He swirled his left hand and the candles seemed to dim so that she could only just see properly.

"And you're quite sure this is not hurting you?" he hummed at her as he leant onto the bed with his arms. She felt all liquid inside as he stared at her darkly.

"You haven't even done anything yet!" she said impatiently. He chuckled.

And then he was on top of her, kissing her, holding her, stroking her, tonguing her and…

"That's quite enough for tonight, Miss. Lewis," he breathed into her ear. She was vaguely aware of a touch on her hand…

_Oh. _He had his long gentle fingers on top of hers as she had tried to unclasp his leather belt… _Awkward, I didn't even know I was doing that._

He followed her gaze down and smirked. "As pleasant an idea as it is…" he lulled into her neck, breathing onto her tingling skin so that she shivered instinctually.

He kissed her there on her neck, then pulled away and held both her hands in his tenderly.

"Not yet," he whispered, then brought his fingers up to her face. Before she could even register what was happening, he passed his fingertips down along her eye-lids, closing them.

And she fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Skel: **_**Damn this stuff is so hard to write. I hope you guys read Reticence. This would make so much more sense if you had, haha.**_

_**Poor Loki**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

"Alright, that's it!"

Loki growled slightly as he shifted around. There was a strange sensation on his feet… like they were weightless and floating…

Vertigo suddenly hit and he felt himself slipping off the bed. Bed? No… it was the couch. He'd slept on the couch that night?

"Unghh…" he mumbled into his hand, stifling a yawn. Everything came back to him in a rush. The raunchy fiasco with Darcy, the sleeping spell, the hours of mindless drinking as he'd tried to dull the ache in his chest.

_I must have fallen asleep on the couch, _he thought. Suddenly he felt a soft touch on his shoulder.

"Get up!" _Oh. _Darcy was trying to pull him up with her little white hands but she was too weak. It felt like she were stroking his arm or trying to give him a gentle massage. He smirked at her efforts.

"Ugh!" she threw her hands up in defeat. She was furious and her dishevelled hair proved she'd had a rough night sleeping too. His grin widened as he saw she'd taken her shorts off in her sleep, and was standing with her big baggy t-shirt and little white panties which peeked out underneath.

Surprisingly she didn't seem to mind, and continued to flail her arms around, allowing him naughty little flashes of her hips and the curve of her pelvis. _Hmm… I must be a God if I can abstain from playing with _that. Her form was so full and beautiful it pained him that he hadn't given in last night.

The ample drink had helped. He'd snuck out and stealthed into the liquor store, stealing about fifteen bottles of his new favourite poison – Baileys.

He remembered the stash and with a small flick of his fingers behind his back, made them disappear into his bedroom. Hopefully she wouldn't find them. He was certain that if she repeated last night's emotional trip with the television box, she'd want something to wash the ice-cream down with.

"I can't believe you," she hissed at him. _And she's angry… how delightful. _Her face was scrunching up in the most amusing little expressions of angst. Every now and then her nose would rise up, and all he wanted to do was nuzzle it into oblivion. She was too adorable for her passionate rage to have any true affect.

"Did you hear me? I said. That's. It!" he shrieked, hands on hips.

"Yes… yes I heard you," he stood up slowly, feeling quite sideways. He had consumed ten of the bottles he'd bought. Even for an Asgardian God that was bound to do some damage. His head felt slightly heavy, and as he rose it pounded in his ears. He winced.

"Enough of what?" he then asked, curious.

"Enough teasing and magicking and tricking and making me fall asleep all the time! You have no idea how sick I am of fainting involuntarily," she folded her arms and glared at him. He sneered.

"But it is so much fun to taunt you," he lulled.

"Ugh!" she threw her hands up again and stomped off to her room, slamming the door. There was a moment of silence and then a blearing sound flooded the apartment. He rolled his eyes – so _this_ was that utterly pathetic form of "music" which the mortals referred to as "Heavy Metal." It was totally beyond him why Darcy favoured the stuff. Completely tasteless. He rolled his eyes as the noise pulsed out of her room loudly.

And then he heard her singing along and he couldn't help but laugh. _How on earth could she sing along? _But she'd managed to mutate the monotonous yelling into a simple melody which followed the guitar. He was very amused, and decided to peek in on her.

Shifting himself into invisibility, he slipped into her room and watched as she flailed about, throwing clothes and punching pillows. The beat was slow, but loud and … strangely catching. He floated over to her music device which was docked onto her "speakers" as he'd learnt to call them. The song was called "_Vacuity_."

"Strange…" he whispered.

She seemed to be calming down, choosing instead to hum along with the guitar melody. She moved angrily to put on some clothes, w_hat a shame, _he thought. _Her actions were doing marvellous things to her breasts… all supple and huge, rolling around…_

He stopped himself quickly. He may have been a tease, but he was not a pervert.

_The God of Lies falsifies the truth, even to himself, _he thought absently.

She slipped out of her shirt and he watched her back, seeing a small part of the flesh around her breast peek out at her side. Deftly she swung on a basic, skin-coloured bra. He _tsk_ed. _There are much better choices. _He remembered the lacy Victoria's Secret numbers he'd bought for her while she was sleeping, wishing adamantly that she'd notice them. They would look so much better.

He reclined in the little chair he'd put in the corner. It was an off green, one of his favourite colours. She slid into another oversized t-shirt, which hid her beautiful figure, and he groaned internally. One day, he would remove all formless things from her closet, and replace them with far more appropriate garments. If he were to be living with her, he'd want to see her walking around the house in fitting dresses and tailored jackets, not men's clothing and _jeans._

Ugh, how he detested them. The ill-fitting, off-black things which she _adored _so much. She was buckling them together now, sucking in her stomach. Not that there was anything to suck in – she had a beautiful waist, which was neither too full, nor too bony.

She checked herself out in the mirror, a small smile dancing on her full lips as she appraised herself. Happy, she sauntered out into the living room.

"Honestly Loki, you confuse the hell out of me," she whispered to herself. He guessed she'd noticed his absence.

_Hmm… this could be interesting._

* * *

><p>Finding herself suddenly alone, Darcy felt forlorn. She remembered out of the blue a quote from one of her favourite childhood books: <em>It is a curious thing, the loss of a loved one … It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things…<em>

"Where did that come from?" she whispered. She hadn't read Lemony Snicket since she was a girl.

But she certainly felt that way. A little too surprised in a bad way.

"Loki…?" she asked the empty room.

Nothing. Folding her arms she sat down on the couch with particular exhaustion. He was driving her insane. With one hand she covered her mouth and played with her lips, with the other she rubbed at her temple slowly.

All she'd been told about Loki was bad. Horrible even. Stories she'd read about his apparent wife Sigyn, strange, sickening stories about children he'd had, ugly tales of what he'd attempted to do on Jötunheim … and the way he'd deceived his family like that. It was enough to make you hate a man.

But here she was, being cared for and tormented by this unusually sweet God of Lies… who she suddenly missed terribly.

She would never admit it to him, but when he'd found her watching _Romeo and Juliet, _it wasn't just the teary tragedy which caused her little meltdown… something else had surfaced as she'd sat there. Alone in the dark, she was brutally reminded of her childhood – nights spent alone, waiting for her mother to come home. And even worse, she was brought back to that night. That same night when her Dad had split.

She shook her head, choosing to lie down. With a groan she remembered _he'd _slept there, and inhaled instinctually. The smell was divine.

"Loki…" she breathed. She knew what her subconscious was doing. It was making retarded daddy-complex connections. She loved the way Loki looked at her, loved the feel of his strong embrace.

But she hated him for it too. She wanted to bury all those feelings. She wasn't like that – she was feisty, loud, feminist Darcy who strutted around in all her Gen Y bolshiness and had fun and fucked around and laughed at everything.

She wasn't this pathetically lonely Darcy who missed things and thought about her Dad and Gods of Trickery.

"Ugh…" she lifted herself up. _Where the hell did he go anyways? _She tweaked the bridge of her nose and winced. He really was no good for her. She was developing some seriously paranoid habits about him.

Not only did she _constantly – _like _constantly – _think of him, but she also _fantasized _about him. All the time, her brain was running at 80 billion kms an hour, racing through scenarios she wished could have continued. The Kitchen Scene. The Taxi Scene. And now the Bedroom Scene…

"Stupid dick!" she yelled, clutching at her knees on the couch. No. She wasn't falling for him. She _couldn't. _Even if he _were _reformed… even if he'd undergone some miraculous transformation since she'd last heard of him… and yes, even if they had met before and something had happened between then… she couldn't just fall into the unknown.

She clenched her jaw and looked out the window. There was that same abyss of _the unknown _which seemed to haunt her like some phantom. When she wasn't playing with Loki in her mind, she was exploring the pot-holes of her memory. Trying to decipher the tiny clues she'd scavenged from the few days she'd been awake. Why was it so important that she didn't know what happened? And why had Loki said what he had when they'd left the Taxi?

"_Reinvent it with me…" _it was such a beautiful phrase… almost too beautiful. Like he were trying to distract her.

Something clicked then. _He's trying to distract me… _From what? Her past? Her memories? _Why _was it so important they were hidden from her?

Slowly she stood and walked to the window. She could see some happy couple, strolling down the road hand in hand… She liked those sorts of things. It was almost like a glimpse of Heaven… or something similar. A little flicker of what paradise was supposed to be like.

_Damn _but she wanted that. And if she were honest with herself – truly, mind-bogglingly honest – she wanted it with Loki. She wanted ice cream and laughs in restaurants and double dates with Thor and Jane… she wanted raunchy sex and making love and telling each other that they loved each other…

Her brow creased. It was all happening so fast. Like some strange disease had taken hold of her and she couldn't control it. The emotions were so foreign, yet so familiar at the same time…

A thought floated into her mind in that stillness. As she touched her palm to the window and watched the couple disappear she felt the lightning bolt strike her from head to foot.

_Maybe… I loved him. In the past…_

It would explain a lot… definitely. And it was a beautiful thought… it sent warm shivers down into her very core. She grinned out the window… _maybe he loved me too._

_Maybe he still loves me._

Her eyes pricked with tears and she hurriedly wiped them away. She wasn't in the mood to cry, but they flooded her eyes anyway. _No respect, _she thought.

If he _did _love her… if that had been their relationship before her Amnesia… then why didn't he want her to remember it? Had he wiped her memories on purpose?

She felt something like pain in her temple, but kept on delving into her memories. Something was stirring.

_Why would he wipe my memories? What would he gain …? If he really did love me… was he trying to protect me?_

A shiver of icy pain shot down her spine and she cried out. _What the hell? _She thought nothing of it. Moving to sit down awkwardly on the ground she furrowed her brow.

_What was he trying to protect me from? _More pain. Louder, more incessant pain. Like it was trying to tell her something.

"Ugh!" she slammed her palm onto the floor. It was like a test – a seriously important exam which she hadn't studied for and couldn't find the answers to any of the questions. There were black holes everywhere, and no matter how hard she tried to see in the darkness, her eyes weren't strong enough.

"Darcy…" a gentle voice at her side. She turned and saw through her tears… Loki.

"Loki…Loki, Loki…." Her words mumbled into nothingness in his chest as she pulled herself to him. The pain was getting stronger… she felt like her mind might bleed out of her ears.

"Love… what's the matter?" he whispered. She was vaguely aware that his voice was strained.

"Where were you… where were you…" she breathed into his neck. Then she gripped onto his face like she were holding on for her life.

"I'm… I'm trying to – ah! – trying to remember…" the pain was interrupting her. Stabbing her repeatedly in the temples and her spine.

"No, Darcy… no…" he said, patting her hair and wiping away her tears. "Not now… it's too soon…"

"You always…. S—say that. Not now…" she gasped, falling into him again. She was starting to shiver as tremors rocked her frail body.

"Hush… I'm going to put you to sleep now—"

"No!" she shrieked, batting his hand away. Loki gaped at her, his eyes almost desperate as he watched her wince in pain.

"No…" she repeated, softer…"no more sleeping. I want to know… I want to know… if I loved you," her voice was gravel now. Brittle and breathy.

"Darcy…" he moaned. His head lowered and he leant into her chest. "No… it's too soon…"

"Did I love you?" she was stroking his hair now… attempting to ignore the furious pain which tore at her.

"Darcy…"

"_Did I love you?"_

Silence. He was clinging to her now… his huge, long arms and beautiful pianist fingers gripping onto her shirt… gripping tighter and tighter until she thought she would suffocate.

"D—did you… love me?" she whispered.

He froze then, his moving fingers stilling and resting against her back. His eyes wide.

"Yes…" he mouthed. She could only just hear the faint whisper of breath in his confession.

_Yes. Yes…He said yes…_

And then a floodgate was burst… a torrent of memories… most she could not recognise, which slipped past her… but one floated into her consciousness… like a breeze, like a trickle of water… like a hurricane of pain and past.

_A humid room and a man before her… a knife glinting in the dimness… a passionate kiss._

She screamed. She felt her world shake then the walls crumble. Her eyes rolled back into her skull as the sky began to shatter like glass. She felt her arms being torn, her skin being cut, her eyes being gouged out… hot irons searing her spine, cold steel grating at her skin… gnashing and burning and freezing and severing…

And still the feel of that kiss… the memory of his face, numb and foreign, and the melting of his lips against hers as she'd kissed him. Kissed him. Tenderly, fiercely kissed him like… like…

Like she were about to die.

She felt like she was going to die.

_I'm going to die… I'm going to die… I'm going to die…_

Her eyes managed to make sense of one vision… a white face, desperate with fear… and then he put her to sleep again.

Just before the relief overcame her, she felt angry. _Damn it…_ she thought.

_He really does do what he wants._

* * *

><p><strong>Skel: <em>Dun duhhh<em>****! _She's onto you Loki... whatcha gonna do?_**_** The next chapter will probably take a good while to write... there's a lot of emotions I wana unpack. sorry for the sudden seriousness... i promise it'll go back to its mushy self in due course... I just feel this is important to reveal first**_

_**Reviews are cool too, you know, just sayin :p  
><strong>_


	8. Chapter 8

**Skel: **_**Thank you beautiful reviewers. I don't even care if I'm just writing for one person, your kind comments are more than enough to make me very, very happy.**_

_**A particularly warm thank you to Darth Fang, your comments always make me smile :)**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

"I swear to God… or Odin… or something, if you knock me out _one more time, _I am going to rip that smirk off your face and slap you senseless," Darcy's voice was daggers, despite the hour. It was three in the morning, a cool night breeze fluttering the curtains.

Loki just smiled. "I can't have you in pain, love, so until you stop trying to remember things, the sleeping spell will have to become a permanent reality."

She glowered at him, then softened. _Love. _She couldn't help but melt when he said it. And his voice… it was so beautiful and deep – she could feel it reverberating in her chest.

_Love._

"But I want to remember," she whispered.

Loki pulled her to him then, cradling her head in his arms. "I know… a part of me wants you to remember too. But it is better this way. Trust me."

_I'm so over this mystery. He's happy to be open with me now, and I feel like I'm getting close, but at the same time I feel like I'm just scratching the surface. What else is there to protect me from?_

She started to tentatively think of that scene she'd remembered. The strange palace she'd been in, with the thick fear which settled in her throat. And Loki moving forward to… to…

"Hush… enough," he rocked her gently. "Don't go there."

"Get out of my head," she mumbled.

A small chuckle tickled her hair as he hummed a laugh. He stroked her head softly.

"I'll tell you what you need to know…" he then said. "But you've pushed me to this, it would have been much more beneficial if you'd just left it alone."

"That's not my style," she said, and he smiled against her hair.

"I know."

She waited eagerly and felt him swallow against her head.

"I… wiped your memory. With magic. It was to protect you from this pain which you feel. Pieces of your past… they hold hurtful things. When you remember them, that same pain will come back to you. And it will soon become so unbearable that… that you may die, or be bed-ridden with pain for the rest of your life. I cannot allow that to happen." His voice was iron at the end – he spat his words through gritted teeth. She did not like to think of what his eyes looked like – his anger was deathly cold.

"Okay…" she whispered. "So… you erased the parts of my memory which had this… pain thing, in them. But what about the parts with you? Why them?"

Loki stiffened against her. _Oh? Maybe I've caught him out._

"I…I…" he swallowed again, "I cannot say."

She struggled out of his arms, "What do you mean, 'you cannot say?' Tell me," she looked at him with as much command as she could. She felt very weak compared to his steely gaze.

He just sighed, "You remembering… us… would have brought that pain back," was all he said. "I thought it better to start again, than to allow you to remember it and… be lost to me."

His face was a picture of pure sorrow. His huge eyes, watery and glistening, were staring at their hands which had become intertwined: his huge and slender, encasing hers, petite and child-like. His thin, pale mouth was tense and shaky, twitching gently as he tried to hold back his tears.

She held the side of his face.

"Loki… did you really love me?" she breathed.

He looked up to her, "Of course, love," his eyes were almost desperate.

"So… you didn't erase those memories because… you didn't want us to be together?"

"What?" his voice was incredulous, "No… no, no, no… never," he held her hand tighter.

"Okay. That's good enough for me," she smiled. Hesitantly she leaned in and brushed her lips against his. _Such a sweet girl, _he thought with awe.

She pulled away and looked at him levelly. "It's getting easier… to do things and be around you, without getting those wicked migraines," she said. "I think the key… is for me to learn how to deal with the pain."

"No… no, I will not let you try that, it is too risky."_ Ugh, he's way too over-protective._

"Dude. It's fine. If I have another episode or whatever, just knock me out again or something," she kissed him on the forehead. "I _want _to remember, okay? It's pretty important to me right now."

"But… why?" he breathed.

Now it was Darcy's turn to be caught out. _Oh, shit… I haven't exactly told him how I feel… do I really want to do that? Oh God… what if he gets all awkward and decides he doesn't actually love me anymore… oh shit, oh shit…_

"Um… well…"

"Darcy…" his expression was strange. "Why?"

"Ah... Um!" _Oh shit, here we go. I'm going to tell him how I feel and he's going to bail and it's only fair because he's totally out of my league and I'm just some low-life mortal who keeps crying and fainting and even though he's given me every hint known to man I'm so sure he doesn't love me anymore—_

"Darcy!" he was shaking her now, gripping onto her shoulder. "What is it, what's wrong?"

She sincerely hoped he couldn't read her mind right at that moment. She tried to think random thoughts… bunnies and chocolate and Leonardo Dicaprio…

"I… I want to know because… because…" she bit her lip. "I'm curious…?" she tried feebly. He arched his eyebrow.

"You're curious…" he wasn't buying it.

"Um! No… actually I'm… really into psychology so… this would make for… a really could documentary or something…"

"Darcy," his voice was a warning.

"Ah! Okay, okay," she held up her hands in defeat, "I love you, alright? I don't even know why, it was just sudden and I just really missed you and I feel like I've loved you for a long time but I don't know why 'cause I hardly know you and I just really want to be around you all the time, and I know you probably don't feel the same way anymore even though you constantly try and rape me in strange ways which I really li—"

His lips were on her, furiously kissing her and parting her lips so his tongue could dart around inside her. She let out a yelp of surprise into his mouth, which soon turned into a moan as his fingers gripped at her hair and the fabric on her back. She bent under him, kissing him back passionately with no thought for any restraint.

He pulled back then and she followed his lips, still trying to kiss him. But she pulled up sharply, very disappointed.

"Why on earth would you think I do not love you?" he hummed.

"Uh… I don't know I just… it seems really weird that you would in the first place… and especially now after I've been a vegetable for three months and then woke up not even knowing who you were…"

"Surely, if you've observed anything over these past days, you would have seen just how much I truly care for you. I would lay down my life, for you Darcy Lewis. I love you. Most ardently."

She whimpered like a retard. "O—okay…"

He laughed, "Don't ever doubt that." And then he was kissing her again, pressing over her and allowing his hands to wander. He slid his fingers under her shirt and felt the soft warmth of her skin.

Now it was her turn to pull away. She looked at him seriously; "so _now's _the right time?"

He chuckled, "I was not really planning for this…" he looked down. "Actually… I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to be doing."

Darcy choked. _What?_

"What…?"

He tried not to meet her gaze. "On Asgard…" he explained, "we are not like you mortals. Our strength of mind is unparalleled, and so we can… abstain… from certain activities if we so wish. Our morals, too, are pure – we wait until the bonds of marriage until we … ah—"

"Have sex?" she finished, eyes wide. "Holy shit, Loki… you've never had sex?"

He shook his head sheepishly.

"Oh… I just assumed with all your … you know… tricks and stuff…" she trailed off. _He was a virgin?_

A thought struck her, "but… we're not married Loki. Are you sure you wanna… you know… break your moral Asgardian chastity?"

He smiled then, a devious, purely mischievous, smile which creeped up his face into a delicious smirk.

"I think I have broken enough Asgardian Rules… one more could not hurt…" he moved closer to her, and suddenly pressed her down onto the sheets, pinning her arms above her. His face was inches from hers – his long, sharp nose tickling her skin.

"O—okay, sure… I have no objections," she tried to sound alluring but felt far from it.

He looked at her seriously then, "Darcy… if I hurt you... you must let me know, and stop me at once. I am a God… and sometimes I do not know my own strength."

She giggled, "I think I'll be okay." And then she moved to sit up, chasing him backwards so that he crawled away on his hands. He felt the headboard behind him and gulped as he saw her expression. It was pure naughtiness. Something very pleasant tingled in his stomach.

Deftly she allowed her hand to trace his frame – starting at his lips, then trailing down his angular neck, and across his collar bone beneath his shirt. She teased at the buttons and slowly opened it, revealing the marble white of his skin. She grinned – for his wiry frame, he was fit. _Very _fit.

She kissed at his neck and felt him swallow against her lips. Biting and licking, she moved down lower, her hands splaying out over his chest… his stomach…

He let out a small moan as she stopped at his belt and pried it open. Her small hand slipped inside, and he gasped.

"Relax…" she whispered, and then helped to ease off his trousers. She let out a small gasp as she saw how _big _he was.

And then Loki watched on in pure delight as she began to do amazing things. Truly incredible things. He knew such a sexual act existed, but had never witnessed it actually occur, let alone ever _experienced _it.

He closed his eyes. This was happiness.

After she'd finished and they were both panting and laughing, Loki grinned and moved towards her.

"I want to make love to you," he whispered.

Without a sound, she shifted and sat in his lap, her jeans the only thing that separated him from her. Deftly he moved to unclasp them – he'd never hated those jeans more, now that they posed an obstruction – and slipped _his _hand inside.

She gasped and grinned, "Let me help." She shifted to kneel on top of him and began loosening her jeans. He helped her pull them off of her smooth legs, kissing the naked skin as it was revealed. She giggled like a school-girl. He then lifted her shirt off and unclasped her bra. He was completely unprepared for her beauty. She knelt before him, full and supple and… luscious.

She moved to straddle him, settling slowly into his lap and bringing her arms around his neck. He reached for her breasts then kissed her as she moved her hips…

And then he was inside her and she moaned into his mouth.

"I love you," he whispered against her neck.

"I love you," she breathed as he moved inside her.

They laughed, and groaned and she screamed and cried out his name. And over and over they whispered and cried out and moaned their confessions, all through the night as they screwed each other senseless. Until they eventually fell into a blissful sleep in each other's arms, and the dawn filtered in through the open window.


	9. Chapter 9

**Skel: **_**I've decided to end this story quickly because I've just had a BRILLIANT idea for a new one which I'm so into and I'm totally over this one now so I'm sorry if you wanted more but this next one is going to be epic and awesome and I'm already like a million chapters into it so *breathe* I'm sorry.**_

_**Oh and to that anon reviewer, no I'm not actually, but I totally wish I were :p**_

_**This is about the second to last chapter … probably …**_

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

Loki's eyes flickered open lazily as he felt that familiar pull into consciousness. Slightly unaware of his surroundings he shifted to sit up, then realized there was something heavy stopping him.

With a pleasant start he remembered the night before as a gloriously naked Darcy now lay sprawled across his chest. She was sleeping soundly with her little hand curled around on his bare chest, and her breasts pressed into his side. He smirked. He'd completely exhausted her.

He was torn between wanting to wake her, and wanting to watch her sleep a little longer. Her face was in a pose of complete peace; relaxed and secure. He felt a wave of pride as he realised she felt safe with him.

_What a night, _he thought. Not only was she beautiful but she was so _limber. _And creative. He felt slightly put out that she'd learnt all her tricks from practice, but was grateful at the same time. He'd never had so much fun.

But he felt this was different. And he truly wished it were the same for her. He knew her history with other men – she'd only ever had one proper boyfriend, who'd apparently cheated on her – _the bastard – _and the rest had been simple flings. From the way she was with him last night – sweet and thoughtful – he hoped with all his heart that she's slept with him because she truly loved him, rather than just for fun and games.

His making love to her was just that – an expression of love. It was almost like the passionate affection he'd had for her had suddenly grown into something much deeper. The joining of their bodies only complimented the joining of their souls, and he felt like he were truly a part of her now, just as she was a part of him.

He wanted to be with her, like this, forever. And it seemed her loss of memory was simply a hurdle they needed to cross. Together.

What she'd said last night had both puzzled and excited him. Could she really learn to live with the pain? Was it simply a matter of practice?

He kept thinking of his father's words and wished he knew the answer.

_Detachment. _It could mean many things. It could mean detaching oneself from the memories all together… or physically removing the spell in some way… anything…

"Detachment… detachment…" he rubbed his chin then stiffened as Darcy began to mumble something and moved sensuously to hug him tighter. But she did not wake. He grinned and stroked her hair as she slumbered on.

He was beyond thrilled that last night hadn't caused any pain for her. Even when she'd been the one making all the moves, she hadn't shown any signs of pain or fear. She'd been completely absorbed in what she was doing – he felt a small blush creep across his face as he remembered what that had been.

He decided he should think about some breakfast for them. Gently he started moving, lifting Darcy up with magic and settling her back onto the bed. He appraised her beauty. She was a picture of perfection – her smooth skin bent into dips and curves which flowed like milk – perfect proportion, perfect arrangement. It was as if she were some surreal painting that was almost too perfect to exist. He sighed. If he stared for too long he may have to reconsider leaving her. Parts of his body were already very close to getting a little too excited.

He turned and walked into the kitchen, humming some tuneless song.

* * *

><p>"What?"<p>

Darcy laughed at Jane's beautifully shocked expression. Her jaw looked like something out of a comic book – halfway to the ground. Her eyes bulged like she were being strangled.

"Yep. It's true."

"H—how… how did this… what?"

Darcy grinned, "It all just _happened _really. I mean… it was definitely coming. You knew that. Hell, even Thor knew, and he's pretty dense."

"What was that Lady Darcy?" Thor asked from the kitchen.

"Nothing bro," she laughed. "Jane! Jane… you look catatonic."

Jane swallowed, "Y—you're sure, Darc? I mean… it's Loki."

She was a little put out – did Jane really have to hate him so much? – but then thought she'd probably be like this with any guy she brought home. Jane was like her seriously-way-too-overprotective-big sister. There was no way this conversation would go down well.

"I'm beyond sure. I love him." Darcy said with pure confidence.

Jane seemed to see it. She shook her head and covered her mouth with her little hand. "Jesus, Darcy… it's just so sudden. I've only had you for a few days… and already you guys are… are…" She started sobbing and Darcy felt more than a little awkward.

"Um… okay… no need to get emotional… we're just going out it's not like I'm preggers or anything…" Darcy patted Jane awkwardly on the back as she cried like the big baby she was.

Jane sniffed; "the second you get pregnant I'll kill him."

Darcy laughed, "Don't worry, if it happens anytime soon, I'll probably kill him myself. I'm _sooo _not ready for kids."

Thor laughed behind them, "Children would be marvellous, would they not Jane my love?"

Darcy burst into hysterical laughter as she watched Jane's expression. She looked like she'd seen an army of ghosts or something. Or Jesus.

"Ah… um… Thor… babe…" Her mouth was opening and closing like a fish.

He suddenly swooped her up into his huge – close to illegally huge – arms and proceeded to kiss her over and over. Where Darcy usually would have puked, she just smiled. She was too happy to be awkwarded out by PDA's

"Anyways, I should get going," she said, moving to stand. "Loki's waiting and all…" she smirked at the forlorn Jane.

"Er… okay… Darcy… wait!" her lips kept getting interrupted. "Thor cut it out! I'm trying to have a conversation." He laughed and put her down.

"Jane… smartest astro-psychocist whatever that has ever lived… _trust me,_" Darcy hugged her then, rubbing her back and trying to reassure her.

"He loves me. I'm beyond sure of that. Ergo, you can trust him. He wants what you want."

Jane sighed in defeat – it seemed to be getting through to her, "Yeah, I know Darc… I'm just… I feel like you've been taken away from me is all."

Darcy squeezed her hands, "I'm still alive, aren't I? You have him to thank for that. And I'm not going anywhere. He'll just be a permanent fixture in my life, that's all."

Jane smiled weakly, "Okay Darc… I love you, you know."

"Yeh, me too. Love you, that is. I, to you… oh, whatever," Darcy grinned. "Have fun making babies!" and she saluted then raced outside. All that show of making babies had made her more than eager to get back to Loki-Love-Maker.

She laughed despite herself and lots of fancy Brits gave her quizzical glances as she raced down the street. She didn't give a flying fuck. Her life was perfect.


	10. Chapter 10

**Skel: **_**Aww now I'm liking this story… I might stretch it out a little bit more :D**_

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

_- Two weeks later –_

"I've done it babe!" Darcy cried out from the study.

Loki came racing in with nothing but his business shirt and socks on. She smiled naughtily as he slid into the room.

"What is it, love?" he came to kiss her where she sat, and she smiled against his lips.

"My amnesia, I've figured it out!" She swivelled on the fancy, vintage, office chair to gesture towards the computer screen. There was a strange picture of two people kissing in the rain, with the words "_The Notebook" _underneath them. Loki arched one perfect brow.

"I fail to see how this poster aids your recovery…" Loki said sceptically, reaching his arms around her neck and kissing the top of her head.

"No, no… not the poster. The movie. Haven't you seen it?" She turned to look at him, but he just shook his head.

"I don't believe I have," he replied, to which she _tsk_ed in disappointment.

"Well, we're _definitely _watching it soon. But anyways. Half of this film is about amnesia. This chick—" she gestured towards the poster, "—she gets it, and forgets most of her past with this dude. But every now and then he reads to her from her diary and she gets these OMG moments and remembers stuff. Much like you and me… except you don't read a diary you just… do things…" he smiled at her attempt at explanation.

"But anyways, I was thinking… what if _she _felt pain every time she remembered? The movie would be screwed up, yes. Andany normal person would think that the best cure would be for her to just live with her amnesia, much like I've been doing, and try never to think or remember the past again…"

Loki was trying to follow, "where are you going with this?"

"Well… _what if _instead of trying to _forget _the painful memories, she simply tried to _remember _them. But without the pain."

"Wh—what?"

"It would kinda be like _Inception _too…" she was talking faster now, getting all excited, "the brain works like running through long grass, right? The synapses are created because you run along a certain paths over and over, making it deeper and deeper – it's how you create a habit, you do it over and over…"

"Yes…" Loki said, very confused, "Yes I know… but Darcy… I'm afraid I still don't quite understand what you're trying to—"

"Well what if I just created _new _paths which channelled my memories _without _the pain? Do some seriously mental army drills and whip my mind into shape so that eventually the pain goes away?"

Loki blinked, "That would require God-like power…. You are only a mortal… you could not achieve such a thing without…" his eyes widened.

"Without magic," she finished with a smirk. "That's where _you _come in. Magic your way into my mind, like you did when you wiped my memories, and change my habits. Like Noah in _The Notebook. _He doesn't even use magic, he just keeps trying and helps Allie to remember, and even when she forgets, he keeps trying…" Her eyes were huge with promise. Loki grinned at her.

"You're a weapon of mass destruction, my love," he hummed, "your intelligence is frightful. If you were to govern an army I am certain you would rule the world, and some."

She kissed him with another smile, "That's why I'm your girlfriend, Mr. I'm-the-smartest-dude-in-the-nine-realms." He laughed.

"Alright… well… let's give this a try…" he whispered, excitement clear on every one of his features.

He held her hand and they raced into the bedroom. She was a little confused, "um… we're not screwing each other senseless, we're performing brain surgery…"

"I know… but you need to be lying down. As much as I'd love you screw you senseless," his smile was pure deviousness. She felt a quiver in her stomach.

She climbed onto the bed, kicking off her shoes. Laying her head onto the soft pillow, she folded her hands across her stomach and suddenly felt very nervous. _I'm about to have brain surgery… _she thought.

"Do not panic, my love," he said, hearing her thoughts. "I have been in your mind before. Any sign of danger and I'll stop immediately. Like it or not, I _am _the smartest being in all the nine realms. You're in safe hands."

He held her face gently, and she instantly felt much safer. This guy really loved her – Odin knows why, but he did. He'd been taking care of her for as long as she knew. He wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"Close your eyes," he breathed, moving his hand to rest on her temple.

She did so, and instantly everything went black.

* * *

><p>Loki's mind reached into hers and he instantly felt the ebb and flow of her thoughts and dreams as they flew past him. He was reminded of the Bifrost – a myriad of colours.<p>

Slowly he uncovered her deepest secrets, gently coaxing them out. All her emotions, all her fears. All her desires. He was overwhelmed. He'd been in her mind before but this… this was so different.

When he'd last journeyed here, it had been a completely alternate landscape. Deafening fears and the heaviness of adrenaline after what she'd been through. Now it was a blissful peace, completely pure and thick with joy.

He felt tears again. All she thought about, everything that consumed her, was _him_. He found every memory of them together, and revelled in her deep sense of joy which she felt when she was with him.

The only thing to mar the beauty of her mind was a small seed. It was black, and rooted in those memories he had locked away. Àlfheim and all the terrors of that place. All her old memories of him. All his betrayals and strange conflictions, as well as hers. He was reluctant to allow her to remember them…

Until he realised she'd forgotten her forgiveness. He had to allow her to remember that. The depth of love in that simple decision had formed her very opinion of him.

She was right about the synapses – hers completely worn out in certain paths like creases in long grass. Some were more worn than others, and her thoughts flowed through them easily.

He stopped short.

He saw the beginnings of a pathway – one which directed her mind away from the pain of the venom… he watched on in awe as he realised she'd trained her mind to think of something else instead…

Her love for him.

He was completely disarmed – she was almost desperate in how she thought of him. Every fibre in her being ached for him. He flicked through her memories, when they were making-love, when they were kissing, when she was touching him, or looking at him… each time there was a flicker of pain, and each time she'd overcome that pain by thinking about how much she loved him.

"Foolish girl," he whispered through tears. She'd accepted the pain, hiding it from him all this time. But she didn't care, so long as she was with him. She would have chosen to live with it forever, if she needed to.

He smiled, "I can change all that." And he allowed his magic to flow into her mind, massaging in the paths she needed, taking her away from her pain so that eventually all the memories were clear and the pain… all but forgotten.

He chose to lie beside her, his work finished, cradling her sleeping form in his pale arms. He'd allowed the memories to resurface, so how would she now perceive him? He felt a voice deep in his core reassure him that she would still love him… but he knew it would still be very different.

He steeled himself for the change. He was ready to accept anything. So long as she was happy, he was too.

He ventured into her mind again, just for something to do while he waited for her to wake. He felt along her memories and lingered on some more raunchy ones, a smirk flickering across his face. He sincerely hoped she was still keen to screw him senseless when she woke.

Suddenly he froze. _What was that? _Deep in her subconscious he found something very strange… he could see the inner workings of her brain. The messages it was sending to the rest of her body – the reflex reactions, the instinctual habits…

And something else.

_No… it cannot be…_

Her body was preparing for something. Something which had already happened… it was growing, changing…

"Valhalla," he cursed under his breath in awe, his voice barely a whisper. "All-Father help us…"


	11. Chapter 11

**Skel: **_**Okay… so **_**this **_**is the second to last chapter, hahaha :)**_

_**Thanks for your reviews guys. I love you all.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

"L—Loki?"

Darcy woke up very alone. The curtains were drawn, with a crack of night peeping through the centre.

_What time is it? _She wondered blearily.

"Loki?" she called again, louder now. Where was he?

She felt very groggy… her head ached. _Another hangover? _She thought. _Another… another…_

"Oh, shit."

Everything rushed back like some torrential downpour of memories. Her dorm. Loki in her dorm. Asgard. Àlfheim. Möfen… and then waking up in this exact same bed to the smell of…

"French toast," she whispered.

French toast. Loki… forgetting… amnesia… McDonalds… Thor, Jane, S.H.I.E.L.D….

"Sex?" she breathed.

Her and Loki. Having sex. _A lot _of sex. A lot of cuddles, snuggles, kisses… weeks of love…

"Shit…. Shit…." She wiped her eyes. It was all happening so fast – a flood of memories drowning her.

She realised suddenly that there was no more pain. Nothing. She could revel in her old memories and nothing hurt her. Everything felt like it was back to normal… no uneasy pot-holes, no awkward unknown. Everything was in its right place.

_Hey that's a Radiohead song, _she felt _very much _like listening to Radiohead right now.

_Where the hell is Loki? _She just realised she hadn't introduced him to any Radiohead yet and wondered if he'd like it.

She slouched over to her speakers, flicking through her songs until she found the one she was looking for. The music started playing and she folded her arms across her chest.

"_Everything… everything… everything… in its right place…"_

She smiled. The resonating strangeness of Radiohead pulsed through the room. _Such therapeutic music._

Pining for Loki, she walked around the house, searching every room. A slight uneasiness settled in her core as she realised she was, in fact, completely alone. There was no sound save the distant hum of London outside her window. Every room she checked echoed emptiness.

Now the song was starting to make her feel a little panicky. "L—Loki?" she called, knowing full well he wasn't anywhere near enough to hear her.

She reached up for her lips and felt they were wet… tears were trickling down her cheeks and over her mouth.

_Oh great, now I'm crying for no reason._

She felt very emotional all of a sudden, and the bed was too far away. So she curled up in a little ball in front of the speakers and pressed her ear to the cold wooden floorboards. The beat of the song vibrated through her and she started crying even more.

"Loki… Loki…" _this is pathetic, _she thought. _I'm crying because I woke up and he's not here. He's probably just grocery shopping or something…_

She tried to reason with herself, but the strange ache didn't seem to want to leave. She started sobbing now, big heaving sobs. _Loki, Loki, Loki, I don't feel so good…_

It wasn't really like him to just leave her, was it? Or maybe he had some pressing matters. Maybe Asgard was in danger… or even worse, maybe Midgard was.

She gulped then cried all the more. _Oh God the world's going to end and he's gonna get himself killed by some big meteor coz he's so gallant and noble all of a sudden._

She sighed, knowing that he wasn't always so noble. _Those _memories were all too clear now.

But she knew he'd changed. She smiled as she recalled her forgiveness. She'd known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he deserved it. And she loved him for what he did.

She still loved him… and he wasn't there to see it.

Suddenly there was a sound like a key in a door. She started – _He's back!_

"Darcy?"

His voice was considerably higher than she remembered.

"Oh God, Darcy!"

_Oh God, Jane._

She felt Jane's hands on her forehead, on her cheeks, on her neck – _is she feeling for a pulse? – _and then she was hugging her, rocking her back and forth.

"Darcy, Darcy what's the matter?" She reached above her head aiming for the speakers and – _oh no you didn't, bitch._

_Click._

"Did you just turn off Radiohead," Darcy narrowed her blood-shot eyes.

Jane gulped, "Oh… er…. Sorry Darc, I couldn't hear myself think." She seemed to relax a little.

Darcy arched her brow, "Radiohead amplifies the mind," she hissed.

Jane laughed awkwardly, "Okaaaay…."

Darcy rubbed her eyes, a little embarrassed now. "Sorry Jane… you got me at a bad time."

"What happened?" They were both standing now.

Darcy sat down on the end of her disheveled bed. "It's… it's Loki… he's gone…" she whispered.

"What?"

"I just woke up and he was supposed to be there when I woke up 'cause he revamped my memories and everything but…" she bit her lip, "he just… left. While I was sleeping."

Jane blinked, "Revamped your memories?"

Darcy smiled sheepishly at her, "yeah… I can remember everything now."

"What?" Jane mouthed, hardly any sound came out of her ashen white lips.

"Yeah… I remember Àlfheim… and before that… and before that… I remember everything," she gestured around with her hands. Jane looked like she'd forgotten how to breathe.

"And… there's… no migraines? You're not… in any pain?"

"Nope," Darcy popped her lips.

"Jesus…" Jane whispered. She blinked then creased her brow, "So— so you remember what Loki did then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… you remember how he betrayed you and… and used you and—"

"Where are you going with this Jane?"

"I just wanted to see if you remembered all that. _I_ certainly do," she added bitterly.

"Jane," Darcy looked into her best friend's face seriously, "If those are the reasons you don't like me being with Loki, then you need to do some major mental modifications," she smiled reassuringly. "I still love him. Unconditionally. Weren't you there when he proved himself, over and over?"

Jane looked away, "Y—yes," she said reluctantly.

"_That _is why I still love him. I forgave him, Jane. For everything. Even when I didn't remember it, I still forgave him," she laughed, "it all makes sense now. The strange feelings I had for him… my emotions and tendencies… it was all about _him_. I totally loved him before I even remembered that I did!"

Jane looked very concerned, "Darc…"

"Don't '_Darc_' me, I know what I'm talking about," she huffed. Jeez, her emotions were all over the place. Depressed then ecstatic then grumpy as fuck.

Jane seemed to get the message and sighed, "Okay… so long as you're happy."

"Well, not at the moment, Loki's up and left forever, hasn't he?"

"No he hasn't," she said quietly.

Darcy stared at her accusingly, "what?"

"He… he's just away… in Asgard… speaking with the All-Father…" she bit her lip, trying not to look at her.

"And you're telling me this _now? After_ I've freaked out and had a panic attack?"

"Well I just got here!" she whined, "he called me yesterday… he said he didn't have time to explain much, but he said you needed me. He couldn't take you with him… you know… in your condition…" Jane creased her brow; "He said he was sorry…" she tried softly.

Darcy calmed down a little, and then felt very confused, "Condition?' she asked, "What do you mean, condition?"

Jane cocked her head, "You know… the whole pregnant thing?"

The planets stopped moving.

_What._

_What._

_What?_

"What…" Darcy knew she'd said the word, but no sound came out. Nothing.

"Oh… fuck…" Jane choked, "Didn't you know?"

"OF COURSE I DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW! I'VE ONLY JUST WOKEN UP! AFTER BEING MIND-FUCKED! JESUS MARY MOTHER OF ODIN ARE YOU FUCKING _KIDDING ME?" _Darcy screamed so loud she thought she'd burst her larynx. Jane stood and held her in her arms – she was insanely strong, now that she was the wife of a God and all that.

"Hush… hush…. Oh shit, if I knew you didn't know…" Jane patted her head frantically. Darcy started crying … again.

"I'm pregnant… I'm pregnant… oh shit I can't be pregnant…"

"Well... apparently you can… if I recall correctly you _did _sleep with him."

Darcy blinked.

_Him._

_Loki._

_I'm having Loki's baby._

"Loki…I'm having Loki's baby?" Darcy whispered through her tears. Suddenly something crashed through her world – a huge realisation that she was having _Loki's child. _The man she loved with all her heart. _Of course _she could be pregnant. It was _Loki's baby._

"I'm having Loki's baby," she said quietly. "Oh my god… oh my god," she collapsed onto the bed with the hugest grin on her face. Jane watched on in complete confusion. She was acting either very bipolar, or very pregnant.

"Oh my god," Darcy reached for her stomach, all of a sudden _very aware _that she had a womb… with a little Loki inside of it. "Oh my god everything's sharp…" she said suddenly, looking around the room. The world around her was suddenly very dangerous.

"Oh Jesus… what if I poke it by accident… what if I squish it in my sleep what if I eat too much and it suffocates or what if I'm too weak 'cause I'm a mortal and it kills me or I don't provide it with enough nutrients and I kill _it…" _her voice was racing at a million miles an hour.

"Hush… shhhh…" Jane tried to comfort her, but she looked just as freaked out as Darcy. "It's going to be fine… Loki's gone to sort it all out with the All-Father…"

"Sort it out…?" Darcy asked in a whisper, "W-what do you mean?" she blubbered.

"He was worried… about you… worried it was going to hurt you… because it's a Frost-Giant and all… well kind of. Half of one…" Jane bit her lip. "He's just going to find out some information… that's all."

"Oh…" Darcy went very still. "Of course…"

She looked out the window towards the stars, picturing Loki and Odin… she wondered if he would be happy or not… did he want the child?

_He just has to, _Darcy thought, cradling her stomach, _of course he'll love you, mini-Loki. I love you already, _she thought towards her stomach.

Yes, he just had to want it. How could he not? It was _their baby._

_Oh my god…_

She stroked her stomach absently, completely absorbed in the beautiful revelation that a baby was growing in her. And not just _a_ baby, but Loki's baby. _Loki's._

"Come back soon asshole," she whispered. "We miss you."

* * *

><p>"You cannot be serious," Loki breathed. "She truly is pregnant?"<p>

To his horror Frigga and Odin simply shared a very knowing, very happy glance. He scowled.

"This is no time for celebrations!" he cried.

"Whatever do you mean, son?" Odin said calmly. "Of course it is."

"W—well…" he bit his lip, "I mean… in any _other _circumstance it would be but…" he ran his fingers through his hair, sitting down on the bench exhausted. "But not like this… not with Darcy…" he breathed.

Odin looked at his son, very confused. But Frigga - suddenly realising the reason for her son's distress - came to sit beside him, holding his shoulders gently.

"Loki…" she began, coaxing his chin up to look at her. His eyes were glistening with fretful tears.

She smiled softly, "When … your father … brought you home to me, I gave no thought to your ancestry. No thought at all. I loved you instantly – and it is not a voluntary thing that happens after months of thought or deliberation. Even when your father explained everything to me, I did not care." She stroked Loki's cheek gently, "a mother never does."

Loki swallowed. "But… but what if _she_ does? What if she takes one look at the thing and… and…" he started to cry. Not wanting to break down in front of his father, he hid his face.

"Do not be so quick to judge her, my son," Odin said gravely. "Or her child."

"W—what?" he whispered.

"You tell us her thoughts before they have even occurred. You doubt her capability to love unconditionally. And you label your child before it is even born," Odin's words were a reprimand, but his tone was very gentle. Loki swallowed.

"Y—you're right…" he breathed. "You're right." Realisation dawned like Spring. "My child…" he whispered. "Oh fuck, I'm going to be a father."

Frigga and Odin exchanged confused glances. "Fuck? What is a 'fuck?'" Frigga asked.

Loki laughed, wiping his tears away. "Midguardian Colloquial Language," he said, suddenly standing.

"So… you are sure it will not harm her?" he then asked worriedly.

"The pregnancy will be very natural. It will be a demi-god, and many of those have been born before," Odin said happily.

"But it's half frost-giant…" Loki retorted.

"And you are small, for a frost giant. Small enough to be with Miss. Lewis. It will not harm her, I assure you," Odin moved then to embrace his son.

"Apart from being a Father… my greatest wish was to be a Grandfather," he said in a sudden moment of sentimentality. Loki hugged his father back.

"And so you will be," he pulled away. "I am sorry I said the things I did… I am just deathly afraid. I know Darcy will be a perfect mother… it's _my _capabilities I am concerned about."

Frigga smiled, "you, too, will be perfect Loki. Once you see your son, all other things will fall away. I promise."

Loki arched his brow, "Son?"

Odin laughed, "She's always predicting things. Go now, my boy. Your wife needs you."

With a teary nod, Loki understood. He summoned a portal quickly with a wave of his hands - he was suddenly beyond desperate to get home.

Darcy… all he wanted was Darcy in his arms. He wanted to hold her until the day she gave birth. And then hold her some more.

As he felt the familiar tug at his skin as the portal aligned itself, he was all of a sudden very nervous. _I'm going to be a father… the father of Darcy's child._

_Darcy's child. _

A huge grin spread across his features. _I'm going to be the father of Darcy's child…_

And then he raced back to Midgard, urging his magic to propel him faster. He wanted to hold them – _them. _His now _one-and-a-half _most favourite beings in the universe.


	12. Chapter 12

**Skel: **_**I'm not gonna lie… this was the most beautifulest thing to write.**_

_**Just a note - Sindri means "sparkling" in old Norse. I thought it would be kinda cute if his little nickname was "Sin" seeing as his Daddy  
><strong>_**is _the God of Mischief and all :D_  
><strong>

_**Anyways, this is the last chapter. Thanks loyal reviewers! Its been fun. Look out for my new Lodar FF… coming soon to a computer screen near you :p**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

- Four years later –

Loki Odinson shifted uncomfortably in his bed. There was something which pressed down on his chest, and bounced around heavily. He groaned and cracked open his bleary eyes.

"Daddy!"

His sleepy smile grew into a toothy grin as Loki saw his son, twitching around on his chest eagerly. He reached to lift him off and tickle his perfect, pale skin, revelling in the musical sound of his giggling.

"Morning, sport," he said affectionately, drawing his son closer to him in a soft hug.

"Morning Daddy," his little British accent in his childish mouth was too adorable, and Loki tickled him again.

"Oh no, it's you two," a soft voice piqued from the door. Loki looked up to see Darcy, standing with his over-sized shirt over her otherwise naked body. He smiled at her knowingly and she returned it with a smirk.

"Shove love," she said cheerily as she climbed into bed, chasing their son away so that he lay nestled in between them. Loki watched her warmly, reaching over to hold her hand over the top of their son.

"Mummy, Mummy… do you know what day it is today?" the boy said, his big green eyes sparkling with childish delight. She feigned confusion, and Loki laughed.

"I have no idea," she was sarcasm personified, and Loki reached to kiss her hand, "what day is it today?"

The boy grinned even wider, his full, porcelain cheeks creasing with dimples. "It's Chrissmars!" he squealed.

Loki nuzzled his nose into his son's cheeks. "That it is, my son… and guess who's we're going to spend it with?"

His eyes widened in excitement, "Who Daddy?"

Darcy wriggled her finger into his little chubby hand, "Grandma…"she said.

"Grandpa," Loki continued, not taking his eyes off his beautiful wife.

"Aunty Jane," she grinned.

"Uncle Thor," Loki laughed, "Though I promise you, son, he will not play with your toys this time."

The child giggled, "What about Uncle Fandal? And Uncle Volshtarg? And Aunty Sif?"

Darcy smiled, "They will all be there too… even Uncle Heimdall."

The boy's mouth opened into a sweet little "o" which was surrounded by perfect pink lips. He breathed out in awe: "No way!"

Loki stroked his son's jet black hair, "Yes, son. W_e'll _be going to see _him."_

The boy's little features scrunched up into a face of confusion. Loki wondered at him – _just like his mother._

"What?"

"Sweetie," Darcy lulled, kissing her son's head and squeezing her husband's hand, "Grandma and Grandpa are having Christmas at _their _place this year. So we... are going… to Asgard" with each pause she poked her son in his podgy tummy so that he giggled.

"Really! To Asgard!" he leapt up and started bouncing on the bed, "Yay! Yay! Yay! Asgard! I've never been _there _before!" he leapt around and Loki wrapped his strong, white arms around his son, bringing him down towards him and snuggling him close to his chest.

"Come on Sin," Darcy said, standing up from the bed. "And you too babe, we've got to get ready."

"Aww, can't I go in my PJ's?" the boy pouted. Loki, too, pouted.

"Do we have to, mummy?" he said, smirking at her.

"Ugh! Boys," she said jovially. "Fine! We'll _all _go in our PJ's!"

"Yay!" Sin leapt out of his father's arms and started racing around the room. Loki was still watching her, a very serious smile now adorning his face.

"Darcy," he hummed.

She cocked her head to one side, slowly walking over to him and settling herself down on his lap.

"Loki…" she whispered, burying her head in his neck, nuzzling her nose against his smooth skin.

"I love you," he lulled, his chin on top of her warm head.

"I love you," she said into his cool skin. Her lips brushed against it gently, planting the sweetest kiss on his collar bone. He shivered.

"You know…" she said, pulling away to look at him, her arms about his neck, "I just thought of something awesome."

"And pray tell what is that, my Love?" Loki smiled.

"We haven't christened those chambers of yours… you know… your secret ones on Asgard…" her smile was pure naughtiness.

"Christened? Whatever do you mean?"

She kissed him then, long and deep, her tongue dancing on his lips. He quivered against her sudden touch as she moved her hands down his bare chest to rest at his thin boxers.

"Guess…" she breathed.

"Hmm… I knew I made that room sound-proof for a reason," he said with a devious grin. She laughed seductively.

"Perfect."

Sindri ran into the room, then made a disgusted noise, "Ew, Mummy," he scrunched his face up.

"You know you look a lot like Mummy when you do that, Sin," Loki said with a laugh, gently easing Darcy off his lap to sit beside him.

Sin scrunched his face up even more. "Come oooooon, we'll miss it!" he yelled, jumping up and down.

"Well, we can't miss Christmas!" Loki said with mock anxiety. Darcy laughed. He then stood, lifting Darcy up into his arms, then reached over with his magic to lift Sin into his arms as well.

"Let's go!" he said, a beam of light dashing through their roof to rest at their feet. Sin screwed his eyes shut and Darcy grinned, gazing into Loki's deep, green eyes.

In that infinite moment, the couple watched each other, lost in the cosmic expanse which stretched on into their souls. Here, now, was their perfect peace, with their son cradled between them, and a universe before them.

"I love you Mrs. Odinson," he said with a pure, joyful smile.

"And I love you," she kissed him.

And then the universe pulled the little family away, shooting through the stars in a flash of green.


End file.
